


A Chance Encounter

by Falon1224



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Bad Ending, Blood and Gore, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Like..., Original Character(s), Original Characters - Freeform, Pining, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Build, Some Plot, Violence, a bunch of them..., alternating pov, ghoul fighting ghoul, might add more characters later, one original character - Freeform, send help, thats a lot of backstory, uta x reader - Freeform, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falon1224/pseuds/Falon1224
Summary: On your way home from school, you find yourself in a predicament. Chased by ghouls in the unfamiliar, unforgiving Fourth Ward. Could your chance encounter with a stranger be Your saving grace? Or a stroke of bad luck?The, once peaceful, city you live in is changing... And some might say it isn’t for the better.





	1. Boo

‘Just take a shortcut, they said. It’ll be fine, they said. Who’s definition of “fine” is this, anyway?!’  
Those thoughts had been on a seemingly endless repeat inside your head for at least the last ten minutes. The sound of your shoes smacking the hard asphalt as you sped through alley after alley… Sidestreet after sidestreet…  
On your way back from campus, you noticed a group of people following you. At first, you thought it was nothing to worry about, even when they continued to follow you as you met up with your friends that afternoon. You mentioned it in passing-almost too casually for their liking. As a human, it should be practically engraved into your DNA to fear anything that may be following you… After all, ghouls notoriously preyed on those who were alone, and defenseless… Statistically, it had been shown that walking alone, around late evening to early nightfall, would certainly get you eaten.  
Yet, you had a hard time feeling such a fear. You never went anywhere without at least a small pocket knife somewhere on your person. Though you were not trained to fight, you were quite adept at taking care of yourself. Having walked home from your college campus for most of your freshman and sophomore year left you with considerable strength in your legs. At the very least, you knew if you were targeted by a ghoul, then you would be able to go down fighting.  
So why… Why did you feel scared when put on the spot? While you were with your friends, you had stupidly declined their repeated offers to walk you back to your apartment. Boasting confidently that you had a few plans on how to ditch them in the fifth ward. 

“Are you sure that’ll work (F/N)?”

“Seems a little reckless, if you ask me…”

“Don’t worry about it! I can handle myself.” You had so boasted nearly two hours prior, now.  
A glance up at the sky spread forth a sense of dread in your heart. Because of your late classes, you often did not get home until the sun set… However, since you had been trying to lose these creeps since leaving your friends, you were running quite late in catching the last train home… 

Crap… At this rate, you would either have to find a hotel to stay at, or catch a taxi back to you apartment.  
Neither option seemed like a stellar idea, either. In a hotel, you were a sitting duck to these creeps. All a ghoul would have to do is track you down by scent and find a way through the flimsy barrier of the door… Given some of the abilities you had seen reported on the news recently, that was probably an easy feat for anyone of those guys; especially if they were hungry enough.  
Catching a taxi was no good, either. All a ghoul would have to do at that point was climb in with you, and get off a few minutes after you got back to your apartment. Though you would have the advantage of knowing the area, it still was not an idea that sat well with you. 

Two hours ago, at the insistence of you friends, you had taken one small amount of advice from them… Just in case your plans to ditch the creeps had failed as miserably as they currently had. 

“It’s a little messy to do it this way, but cut through the fourth ward, if they keep following you. I heard that if you can lose them in the alleyways, then other ghouls will hunt them down.”  
At the time, the idea had absolutely disgusted you… Yet, here you were… Trying your best to lose the nuisances. They were persistent, that was for sure. Even a creepy stalker surely would have given up, by now!  
In your right hand, you clutched the strap of your art bag tightly: the fraying canvas scraping uncomfortably against the soft skin of your palm. You tried to focus on something… The sound of your pencils clattering together inside the pencil pouch… Your notes and textbooks smacking lightly against the side of your leg with each step you took… Even the sound of the mid autumn insects crying around you. Anything to take your mind off of the growing sense of dread that continued to bubble up inside your throat.  
Your left hand curled into a tight fist inside the pocket of your (F/C) jacket-right where your knife was placed. In hindsight, you did not really want to fight a ghoul… They were much stronger than average humans… That was why the CCG existed, after all.  
Not only that, with how long you had been walking around this ward, you were certain all you had done was attract more of their kind. Tonight just seemed to keep getting worse and worse…  
Rounding a corner, you put yourself back out on the main roadway. It was not especially dark, yet-it was a Friday night, so many bars were still bustling with business. If you had not forgotten your ID, then you would have stopped in any of them to try an use a phone.  
At the very least, you could have had a drink in a pathetic attempt to calm your nerves… 

Heaving a sigh, you could take comfort in knowing that the streets were much more well lit on the main roadway. This also meant that there were more CCTV cameras mounted on the buildings, just in case you did turn up missing…  
No! Those sorts of thoughts would only cause you to make even worse decisions than you already had. The news tower at the end of the street was blank, save for the current time that shown in bright red numbers. It was getting late… Far too late for your liking.  
The footsteps behind you had slowed down, somewhat. This was comforting, if only for a little while.  
Now then… The smart thing would be to duck inside a nearby building and ask someone for help. There was bound to be some place open that you would not need your ID for, right?

Well, that would have been the rational, well thought out approach to this situation, anyway…  
Rather then do any of that, you gripped your bag as tightly as humanly possible and sprinted down the vacant sidewalk.  
“What the-Oy! Go catch her!” One of the creeps shouted from behind you.  
Your hand gripped tighter around your knife as the footsteps quickened in pace, trying desperately to match your own. They were either weakened from hunger, or were just leading you into a false sense of security to try and get you to slow down… Knowing how bad your luck had been tonight, you were willing to wager that fate had planned the latter option especially for you.  
As you ran, your bag smacked roughly against your legs. You considered ditching it a few times along the way, only to clutch it closer towards your body. A rather senseless gesture to a rational mind… But, as an art student, the bag often held a large percentage of the work that would eventually make its way into your portfolio for the end of the year exams. On this particular day, you had just put the finishing touches on a sketch for your next oil painting, and you had already determined you were not about to lose it. 

‘Go snack on someone else if you want an easy meal.’ You thought bitterly to yourself. Much as you wished and willed your tormentors away, they seemed to endlessly pursue you. Despite the cold fear that washed over you, a subconscious thought told your body to keep moving; that if you were caught, then you would at least have made their meal taste disgusting.  
Tearing around a corner to your immediate right, you felt that same dread from early claw at your throat. Another alleyway?! Just how many of these would you have to go down tonight?! Street lights flickered as the footsteps drew dangerously close to you. Rolling storm clouds overhead obscured any light the moon may have tried to offer, otherwise.  
Out of the corner of your eye, you spied one lonely sidestreet right as you were about to run by it. Skidding to a halt, your shoes slid in what was left of a puddle from the afternoon rainstorm. You caught yourself on the wall just before your feet gave out. Though you staggered on the slick ground, you quick thinking did put some distance between you and your tormentors. 

“Idiots! The other way!” One of the ghouls chasing you shouted.  
The stench of fresh graffiti was damn near sickening as you tore down the vacant street. Vagrants lazing about in the street spouted nonsense as you ran by; throwing half empty glass bottles in your direction. Thankfully for you, their aim was quite terrible-shattering as they connected with the building walls beyond your.  
With your school bag clenched tightly to your chest, you immediately ducked into the first opening you could find. It was quite dark, wherever you were. Why the door had been left open was hard to fathom, if the business was closed. Maybe the owner had just forgotten to lock up for the night? If that was the case, it probably would not be a smart idea to hang out here for too long. The owner may realize this at some point, and discover you when he came back…  
Heaving a deep breath to steady your nerves, you rifled through your bag and grabbed your phone out. You did not hear the footsteps in here, yet. Perhaps they had stopped to look for you elsewhere. If that was the case, then you may have enough time to call the police. At the very least, then you could call your friend to come pick you up. You just hoped the shop you had ducked into was not some gang hideout.  
As the light from your phone shone around you, it soon became apparent that you were not alone in the building. An odd looking young man stood only a few inches away from you: staring curiously at your face. The man was dressed entirely in dark colors, making it easy for him to blend into the darkness of the building. His dark hair swept to the right, whereas the left side had been shaved. He was quite pale, especially in the glowing light of your cell phone. Black onyx and silver piercings shone brightly, even in this meager light.  
However, what immediately stood out to you were his eyes. Completely black in color, with a red iris… The tell tale eyes of a ghoul.  
Your grip on your phone tightened the second you saw him. Had one of the ghouls from earlier managed to find you? You had not gotten a good look at them earlier, so you supposed it was possible. The man tilted his head slightly as he continued to stare at you. 

“Boo.”

You were not sure why you decided that particular moment would be the best time to freak out… Any sensible person would have started screaming as soon as they realized they were not alone, instead of awkwardly stare at the other person.  
As the man spoke, your train of thought was immediately broken. Rain slick shoes slipped on the smooth metal floor, as you tried to put some distance between yourself and the monster. The singular thought on your mind was to continue to run… To not give up and allow yourself to be eaten.  
Not realizing there was a staircase to your immediate right, your foot gave out under the missing space. In a pitiful attempt to regain your footing, you staggered once again on the staircase-dropping your phone almost immediately in your haste. A shriek lodged itself inside your throat as you fell. In the back of your mind, you knew the weight of your bag against your chest would only add to your injuries, once you landed at the bottom of the stairs.  
Unconsciously, you reached out with your free hand: a desperate attempt to try and save yourself from serious injury… Especially with a ghoul in the same room.  
Just as you thought this, a strong hand snatched you by the wrist and pulled you back on to the top stair. In an instant, you found yourself held securely against the stranger. The only barrier between the two of you being your school bag. His hand warm against your wrist, albeit slightly calloused. His gaze, oddly enough, was not menacing, that you could tell. Rather, he stared curiously at you-almost as though he had never seen a human up close before… A breathing one, that is.  
“Humans sure are clumsy.” The stranger said almost matter of factly. Before you could wrench yourself free of his grasp, the man released his hold on you. Leaning down, he picked your phone up from where it had clattered to the stairs, then held it out to you. 

He tilted his head slightly to the side as you could only back away from him. It was a sickening feeling… To be trapped in a strange part of town, with ghouls after you from seemingly every direction. You wanted to run, phone or not, as far away from this ward as your legs would allow. 

So why? Why was your body not obeying the commands of your brain? Why could you only stand there in a horrified silence as the stranger tried to offer your phone back? That had to be a trap, right?  
“Hm? Is something wrong? Did you get hurt?” The stranger asked, as his gaze drifted to the dip in the stairs.  
“If you keep backing up, you’re just going to fall again.” He pointed out, this time with a bit more of an annoyed tone of voice. Minimal brows furrowed as he spoke. Luckily, you had the sense to stop moving the second he spoke, otherwise you would have tumbled down the stairs… Something in the back of your head said he was not going to prevent your fall a second time.  
“What are you doing here? It’s awfully late for humans to be out, especially in this ward.”  
The man once again tried to offer your phone back to you, this time your hand cautiously reaching out to take it. Half expecting the ghoul to snatch you forward again, and try to eat you. His grip on your phone was half hearted, at best, sliding into your hand with ease.  
“I… Was on my way to the station.” You answered quietly, throat dry from the exertion of running from the ghouls. Swallowing harshly against the dry, sticking feeling in your throat. You were not entirely certain just how much to reveal to this man… After all, he could be friends with those freaks from earlier.  
“I guess I got lost on the way. I didn’t mean to barge in so suddenly. I’m very sorry.” You added with a low bow of your head, your eyes never wavering from the man before you. 

“Lost? That was a lot of noise for something like that; sounded like you were being chased.” He pointed out, his brow quirking north in an obvious disbelief.  
Your face paled hearing this. Had it really been that obvious? Blank, E/C, eyes stared back at him as you slowly straightened your back. 

“I… Well… That is…” What were you meant to say in a situation like this? 

The ghoul sighed heavily at you once again, as though he had just realized why you were so paranoid of his presence there.  
“If you’re worried I’m going to try and eat you, then you can relax. Adrenaline makes meat taste gamey.” He stated bluntly, as though that should have been common knowledge for even a small child.  
Gamey? He spoke as though he were referring to the meats humans would consume, rather than the flesh ghouls would actively hunt. As far as you knew, all ghouls were not shy about hunting for their food, unless the CCG had announced their presence in the area. How could he say something like that?  
“Um… Who are you?” You asked, suddenly feeling queasy at the thought of human meat and adrenaline tainting.

“Me? I’m Uta, and this is my studio.” He replied, gesturing to the bottom of the stairway with a wave of his hand. Shining the light from your phone down, you could just make out a small indent in the far left wall where a door had been placed. A lavender colored rug, reading Hysy Art Studio had been placed carefully at the entrance.  
You had heard of this place before-one of your friends was talking about being dared to visit the studio by her boyfriend, and some of his track mates. Of course, the rest of your small group had told her it was a stupid idea, because it was rumored to be run by a ghoul. In the end, only one of her boyfriend’s track mates had gone, and had even bought a mask from the studio… Though he would not say whether or not the rumors were true.  
“Uta… I apologize for barging in so suddenly, again. But, you’re right, I was being chased… This was the first place I saw that I could duck into and lose the ghouls that were chasing me.” You clarified. Though it was not much to go on, you were acquainted with someone who made it out of the studio alive…. Maybe he really would not eat you. 

“Ghouls were chasing you near here?” His question seemed strange, you thought. As though it were not something that happened often. How could it not, though? The fourth ward was, reportedly, one of the worst prefectures infested with ghouls. 

“They must be new… I’ll have to deal with that later.” Uta mumbled to himself as he turned to face the exit.  
“Regardless, it’s dangerous to walk through this part of town by yourself. I’ll walk you to the station Ms…” He trailed off, realizing you had never given your name to him.

“Eh? Oh, you don’t have to…” Trailing off as he raised an eyebrow at you once again. With a heavy sigh, you clenched your fingers around your bag once again, as your other hand turned the light off your phone and placed it back inside the small pouch, 

“F/N… Thank you for your help.” You replied as the ghoul pushed the door open, standing aside long enough for you to step back out into the mid autumn night. By now, the sky had grown dark-with only the light from the half moon and waning street lights to shine your way down the street.  
Uta remained silent as he shut the door behind him, and locked it for the night. Though it was not unusual for him to go out of his way to help a human, they were rarely so cooperative. Poor thing must have been running for quite a while, he wagered.  
“Come on. The station’s not far. If we hurry, you’ll make the last train.”


	2. A Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little short, compared to the first chapter. My apologies! (T ^ T) I wanted to use this chapter as kind of a character build up. I promise the next chapter will have more plot!

Walking to the station by yourself was a nightly occurrence for you-the silence of the late evening was a nice change of pace from the hustle and bustle of your class schedule. You could take time to listen to your music, and take in the sights of the quiet city around you.  
This night, however, was completely different from your usual routine. Walking to an entirely different train station, escorted by a ghoul of all things… You needed your head examined-that was all there was to it. There was no way any sane person would ever allow themselves to be put in this situation, if they could help it. Fingers pulled nervously at the fraying edges of your bag as you occasionally glanced toward your right at the man.  
As you had drawn closer to the more populated areas of the city, he had slid on a dark pair of sunglasses. More than a little odd looking, given the time of night, it was effective in covering his eyes. For whatever reason, his did not seem as though they could appear anything like a human’s. Even for a ghoul, he seemed to be a little odd…  
Uta led you to the station, saying nothing and keeping his hands in the pockets of his cardigan the entire way. Oddly enough, that made you feel a little better about the situation. At least if he tried to attack you, then you would be able to notice the motion of his hands and have some chance of reacting…  
“We’re here. You have about ten minutes before the last train leaves. Everything is well labeled, so you shouldn’t get lost inside.” Uta stated suddenly, breaking your train of thought in the process. Unintentionally jumping once again in surprise as you looked up at the man once again. You had not even realized that you had been led up to the station entrance until he had spoken. Flickering, orange colored lights shined just above your head, leading a small pathway up to automatic glass doors.  
“O-Oh! Right. Thank you very much.” You replied with a small, almost timid smile at him. Fingers clutching tighter on the strap of your bag as you politely bowed your head in gratitude.  
The ghoul merely offered you a smile and nodded in reply.

“No worries. Try to be careful, from now on.”  
You nodded quickly as you stepped around towards the doors. The more distance put between you seemed to relax your fingers. Part of you felt bad for being so distrusting of the man who went out of his way to walk you to the station. Though it did not seem like he thought poorly of you for this-more like he was accustomed to such caution. 

“I will. And I’ll try not barge into your studio like that, again.” You joked lightly, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in the back of your mind.  
To your surprised, Uta lowered his sunglasses with the tip of his finger. A small, mischievous grin slowly spread across his pale lips. If not for his eyes, he would remind you of some of the students on campus. There was a slight quirk to his brow as he returned your light hearted remark.  
“You can visit anytime, Ms. F/N. Just try not to fall down the stairs next time.” He quipped with a playful wink. 

 

That had been nearly one week ago, and you would occasionally catch yourself thinking about it. Not enough to fall behind in your classes-at these prices, who could?! However your friends had definitely noticed something had been different about you since that night.  
“Hey, F/N. You’ve been really weird recently. Are you sick?” One of them had asked the previous day. Naturally, you had brushed them off-insisting that you were perfectly fine, and that there was no reason for you to miss your next class for some rest. Who needed that, anyway? Certainly not you! Not when you were so close to up your next project. Determination and copious amounts of espresso fueling you to get ahead in both your math, and humanities classes so you could focus all your energy in studio art when the time came.  
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay, F/N? You just… Don’t seem like yourself. Are you sure you weren’t hurt that night?” A feminine voice asked for what felt like the thousandth time in just the current day. A pink mechanical pencil twirled lazily in your hand as you stared down at your calculus textbook, having long ago lost track of the problem you were working on. Where was that x meant to go, again?  
With your free hand, you rubbed your tired eyes as you set your pencil down over your half filled notebook.  
“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you guys keep asking that, anyway, Yuki?” The question was out of your mouth before you could even make an effort to adjust your tone of voice to something a bit less accusatory. The low chatting of other customers in the cafe seemed oddly loud to your overworked mind. Even the extra shots of espresso in your coffee did not seem to be helping, even with the pain relievers you had taken thirty minutes prior.  
Coffee, which had grown lukewarm now, sat on a small glass coaster to the left corner of your textbook. You were half tempted to reach for it, even though you were quite sick of the muddy substance by now.  
“Eh? What do you mean why? You were being chased by ghouls!” 

“Can you not be so loud? Sheesh!” You hissed back at your friend, glancing around frantically to make sure no one else in the cafe had heard that part of the conversation. The last thing either of you needed was to be questioned by the other patrons… Or worse: accused of being bait to lure others into a trap. While that was not a common tactic among ghouls, it would be just your luck to be accused of something so ludicrous.  
“Besides, I’m here, aren’t I? I ditched them in the fourth ward: just like YOU suggested.” You emphasized to her. The firm tap of acrylic nails over the table surface immediately ceased at this, he dark eyes darting down to the empty cappuccino cup sitting in front of her. Her free hand brushing a tuft of light brown hair over her slender shoulder as she shrugged slightly.  
“Honestly, I didn’t think you would do something like that. You’re usually too confident to take advice from anyone.” She reminded you.  
While that may be true, that certainly did not mean you were stupid. Any sensible person would have done their best to try and lose their stalkers without leading them to their home. That was just common sense!  
You raised an eyebrow at her for a moment, half tempted to remark on which one of them was actually the dingbat in the group. According to both you and her, it was typically the third member in your group of friends. Of course, this was also based on how often the third girl was often lost in her own little world-always the last to join in on any conversation between the three of you, only to quickly divert the conversation towards herself.  
You decided not to bring that up, however, knowing how much Yuki would rather not talk about her at the moment. From what you had heard, the night you had gotten lost in the fourth ward had also been the night Yuki had gotten into a fairly large argument with the other girl… Even a week later, she hardly spoke of it, or of her.  
“Are you sure that’s all that happened? I won’t ask anymore, after this, I promise.” She promoted.  
You wanted to stick to your story: that you had lost your stalkers in the fourth ward and had gotten to the train station by yourself. For starters, there was no reason for you to mention how you almost fell down a flight of stairs… Nor did she have to know about Uta. He was a ghoul, after all, and Yuki would surely think the worst of you for even giving him the time of day…  
“Masao says he saw you walking with someone that night…”  
You immediately felt your face pale considerably. Masao was Yuki’s boyfriend of the last two and a half years. You had forgotten he had recently gotten a bartending job in that area…  
Oddly enough, the girl smirked deviously at you.  
“Got a boyfriend, finally, F/N?”

“Huh?! No way! You know I don’t have time for that! He just walked me to the station. That’s it!” You huffed indignantly. Sure, Yuki would chastise you for being a stick in the mud, but that was the truth. You were far too busy with school to worry about chasing after a guy… Even if he did wink so playfully at you… No! There was no need for that! You had started that, after all… 

“Was your knight in shining armor at least cute?” She asked curiously. 

“Shining armor? More like 90s visual kei.” You replied as you picked up your cup and sipped the chilling, muddy substance in the cup. Eyebrows knitting together from the bitterness of the taste as you set the cup back down on the coaster.  
“90s visual kei? Oh! You mean Uta, right?” 

At this, you visibly widened your eyes in surprise. She… She knew hime?! How was that possible?! You knew Yuki was a bit of a scatter brain, but there was no way she could not know he was a ghoul! How was she so at ease with this?  
“You’ve met him?” 

“In passing, yeah. Masao and I have been to his shop a few times. He’s a little odd, but he’s always polite. You must have caught him at the right time for him to walk you to the station.” She replied with a casual smile. Her left hand neatly cupped under her chin as she spoke. To you, it almost seemed like she was enjoying the surprise that was so evidently painted across your features. Not that she could blame you, though. How often would a human visit a shop run by a ghoul, you were no doubt, wondering. 

“You should come with us next time, F/N. I’m sure he’d be happy to know you got home safely.” She prompted before you could say anything else.  
Part of you wanted to roll your eyes at her for making such an absurd suggestion. You had only met the man once, and had been less than polite to him for most of that time. Why would he care about the safety of someone who would, otherwise, be his dinner.  
Still, you could not help the curiosity that had been steadily budding in the back of your mind since that night. He had said that you could stop by the studio… You wondered what sort of artist he was. Just by speaking with him, you mostly pictured him as a dark realist painter. Imagining the studio walls sparsely decorated with beautifully haunting paintings of a world steadily plummeting itself into dystopia. For ghouls, they most likely found the world to not be so far from what modern artists imagined for the world.  
You sighed lightly as you picked your pencil up from your notebook, haphazardly turning your attention back to your textbook. Where on earth had you left off with this?  
“Come on! It’ll be fun! Besides, he’s an artist, too. He might be able to give you some advice on your next class project.” Yuki insisted. 

“We don’t even have those instructions, yet!” You huffed in an aggravation you both knew was feigned. As much as you did not want to admit it, Yuki knew all too well when she had piqued your curiosity. She said it was something in how you would twirl your pencil, or a lock of your hair.  
“Well, you didn’t say ‘no’! That’s great! We can visit next Tuesday!”


	3. Is it a Full Moon Tonight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter from Uta’s point of view! ＼(^o^)／ I was really excited to write a chapter like this, since third person is what I’m most familiar with. I was really pleased with how it turned out, and hopefully he isn’t too out of character.

## 

One week later: Tuesday Morning

Early morning sun shone brightly through the sparsely parting clouds, bathing the quickly crowding streets in a warm, light golden hue. Though Uta was not overly fond of the warm weather, there was a strange, undeniable beauty to be found when watching the city slowly come alive. He liked to watch humans on occasion-noticing their little idiosyncrasies in how they moved and spoke to one another. How they all seemed to have their own individual tastes. They were fascinating, he thought absently as he made his way down the path to his studio.   
He had decided to head out to run a few errands before opening his shop for the day’s business. A small, paper bag held against his chest: he had been meaning to buy a new set of heavy duty needles for his leather masks. While he had been out, he had also purchased new chalk pencils, and a few extra spools if black thread.   
Naturally, this little trip had gotten him more then a few odd sideways glances. Even in this day and age, it was still highly frowned upon for someone to dress like he did, and show off about half of the tattoos that adorned his hands and forearms. Or, perhaps, those strange looks could be due to how he had not taken his sunglasses off..? Not that it really mattered to him, either way. He found humans fascinating, but that did not mean he would try and change his appearance to try and fit in with them just to run a simple errand.  
As Uta rounded the next corner to his left, he happened to glance across the street to check the time. A large, analog clock had been hung just underneath a dark awning of a nearby restaurant. At this pace, he would be back in five minutes, giving him half an hour to prepare to open his studio for the day. Good, he thought as he continued down the crowded pathway. He would have just enough time to set everything up, and maybe start on one of his recent commission sketches.   
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something… Rather out of place, even in the Fourth Ward. While the area was decently sized, he knew roughly which ghouls we located in certain areas. Nearly no one new entered the area without him knowing about it, despite the fact he was not officially in charge of the ward’s ghouls anymore. Yet, he found himself perplexed by one particular scent. He could tell they were a ghoul… Yet their scent was not one he recognized. What were they doing here?  
More importantly, what were they doing so close to his studio?   
With that thought in mind, Uta carefully tucked the small bag into the pocket of his cardigan and lowered his sunglasses by a fraction. If their intentions were peaceful, then they were most likely here for a mask. Ghouls would come here from other wards for his work-hiding their faces to avoid the CCG agents that roamed the other areas. However, it was still unusual for them to not be noticed while entering the ward…  
Turning down the corner that led directly to his studio, he noticed a rather odd looking individual lurking just at the end of the street. Despite the warm weather, they wore a dark violet colored hoodie with the hood obscuring most of their face. They leaned against a street light, almost as if they were waiting for someone they knew, or a taxi, with hands in the pockets of their dark jeans… They really could not be any more suspicious, he thought.   
Uta pressed his sunglasses back into place as he stepped further down the sidewalk. Part of him did not really want to bother with whoever this person was, but he knew they could not hang around his studio like that. Even from here, he could smell the ghoul; humans had a distinct scent, one that was entirely different from their own.   
With each step he took towards the stranger, they seemed to grow increasingly tense. When he passed the door to his studio, the stranger immediately turned on their heel and quickly dashed away from him. If he was not suspicious of this person before, he certainly was now.   
Half of him wanted to pursue the person, more to stave his curiosity than anything else. They did not appear to be moving too fast, despite the speed most ghouls had. However, there was only so much time left before he had to be back at his studio… At least, that was what he thought as he paused at the spot where the stranger had been standing.  
In actuality, Uta had noticed something peculiar drop from the stanger’s pockets. At first, he thought he might have imagined it when they did not stop to pick it up. Looking at it now, though, it was easy to see why they had not noticed it missing.   
A small, plastic storage bag had fluttered to the ground in their haste to get away. Brightly colored tablets crumbled slightly inside, no doubt from the collision with the concrete. As he leaned down to pick the bag up, he noticed they were strangely shaped: resembling the designs he had seen on decks of playing cards. Though mangled from their fall, he could see that two of the three were clover shaped, while the third was possibly a heart shape.   
Uta quirked a brow in perplexion, as he opened the small bag. He had been in this ward his entire life, and had never seen anything like this before. Plucking one of the clover tablets out, he thought they smelled sweet. Not enough to be appetizing, he thought-just enough to be strangely pleasant. The dark red color used to paint the tablets flaked off against his fingers; it somewhat reminded him of the way dried blood would flake and cling to his skin.   
He suspected, initially, that these might be the same mixture the Anteiku cafe used for their sugar cubes. However, as more of the coloring flaked away, the sweetness of the tablets gradually faded. He could smell something… Almost rancid, underneath the heavy stench of medicine. Though he could not be certain, he suspected these tablets were something dangerous.   
“It looks like I’ll have to visit Itori sooner than I thought.” He said to himself as he dropped the tablet back into the bag with the others. If he did not have any idea about what these tablets were, then he was certain she would know exactly what they were. He sealed the bag, and tucked it into the pocket of his cardigan. This had taken far too much of his set up time, already.   
Without a second thought, Uta turned on his heel and made his way back towards his studio. With keys in hand, he took the stairs two at a time. Strangely enough, he thought back to the human girl who had nearly fallen down the stairs two weeks ago… F/N, if he remembered correctly… Hopefully, she was staying out of dark alleys and not falling down stairs.   
As Uta unlocked the door to his studio, and turned the lights on, he felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his black pants. Now who could that be, he wondered? Itori rarely ever called him this early. A customer, most likely, though they were a bit early. Pulling his phone out, he was surprised by the name listed.   
Yuki Aikawa, or rather her boyfriend, was a customer he knew rather well. He had worked around in some of the local bars for the better half of two years. He would stop in every so often with some of his friends, or coworkers for adjustments or repairs to their masks. He had asked the man once why he had not retired a mask he had bought nearly four years prior. Not that he could blame him for holding onto it, he supposed. There was something special about one’s first mask.   
He had not seen them recently, now that he thought about it. While he was acquainted with Masao’s crowd, he had only ever talked to Yuki a handful of times. 

“Good morning, Ms. Aikawa. What can I do for you, today?” He responded as soon as he answered the phone. It was rather unusual for her to call ahead, unless Masao’s mask, specifically, needed repairing. Even then, it was never this early in the morning that she would call.   
“Good morning, Uta~!” She chirped back. Well, at least she was in a good mood, he thought.   
“Listen, I was wondering if it would be alright if I stopped by today, after class?”   
Uta hummed lightly at her question. The few times she did call, it was to let him know they would be heading over. It was never to ask his permission. 

“You’re welcome to come by anytime you want. Will anyone else be with you?” He asked curiously.   
“I was going to ask about bringing a friend of mine along. She won’t admit it, but I think she’s having trouble with her latest class project. I was hoping you might be able to help her out. Artist to artist.” She explained, almost sheepishly, Uta thought. 

“Oh? Is that so?” He wondered as he stepped back behind one of the glass display cases. He pulled open one of the thinner drawers behind the counter, and tossed in the small bag of tablets. No sense in keeping them in his pocket all day, he figured. So long as he did not forget about them before he went to visit Itori. 

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want. But I’d still like for you to meet her. She’s been curious about the studio for a while, but we don’t really want her walking through that part of town on her own.” Yuki continued, noticing the suspicion underlying in his tone.   
That piqued his interest, though she could not tell. Did not want her walking this part of town? Sounded like the girl from two weeks ago-he distinctly recalled telling her it was dangerous to walk the Fourth Ward by herself. Uta half wondered if Yuki’s friend might be the same person… Despite how preposterous that possibility was.   
After class for Yuki generally meant that it would be close to closing time for him. The shop would be, essentially, empty. Though, if they intended to stay long, then he might have to close a few minutes early to make sure they got to the station before it got too late. From there, he could head to Itori’s, at least.   
“That’ll be fine.” He replied, after a few minutes of silence, stepping out from behind the counter. Three rows of mannequins sparsely lined the black and white tile floor, covered with white linens. Holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, he carefully began to remove the linens-draping them over his arm to reveal the masks underneath.   
Yuki let out a heavy sigh of relief from the other end of the line. Obviously, she had been worried he would refuse her offer. Not that he could blame her, he supposed.   
He was curious about her friend, rather than worried about them. Of course, that did not mean he trusted them right away… He wanted to ask her why she thought to ask him to help this person out, initially. However, he thought better of it-wondering if it might be better to possibly be surprised when he met this person.   
He would take a few precautionary measures to keep them unaware. Despite her boyfriend’s crowd of friends being halfway convinced he was a ghoul, Yuki seemed blissfully unaware, and he would prefer to keep it that way. The same went for this mysterious friend of hers.   
“Great! I’ll call you back when we’re on the way! See you soon!” With that, she hung up the phone. Uta straightened immediately, tucking the phone back into his pocket. When the first row of mannequins were uncovered, he paused to take the armful of linens to the display counter.   
The day had only just begun, and it was this strange? Inadvertently chasing off an obviously new ghoul, and now meeting some mysterious human? What was the human expression for a day like this, he wondered as he folded the linens for the coming evening.   
Ah, that was it.   
“Must be a full moon.”


	4. Departing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back to moving the plot along! I feel like this took me forever to write, even though it’s only been a few days since the last update. I struggled with a couple things, but I’m happy with it, in the end. I promise there will be more of Uta in the next few chapters! ( ^ω^ )

## 

Tuesday Afternoon

“Come on, F/N! It can’t be that bad, can it?” Yuki joked as she all but dragged you away from your dorm building. A thin, white binder clutched tightly to your chest as you struggled to follow your friend in the midst of your internal crisis. Your bag hung lazily off your right shoulder, pencil pouch threatening to tumble out of the front pocket if you were not careful enough with it.  
“It is, though… Realism painting…” You murmured quietly, your head lowered as your continued to mutter about the realism project. The binder in your hands held the full extent of the directions for the next assignment for your class.  
“Realism? But your paintings are great! You’ll ace it, no problem! Professor Yamada has displayed your Tokyo Tower painting, and your Cafe Mother painting twice for exhibitions. The university has a waiting list for next semester because of you, and several other students.” Yuki encouraged. She paused with you at the corner of the street, giving you a clap on your back to prove her point. Her smile large, and friendly: as it always was whenever you were in a slump.  
While she was not entirely wrong, you did think she might be exaggerating a bit on why the university has a waiting list for the art department. There were many talented students who attended the same class as you; some with talent you believed exceeded your own. On top of that, young students were now being encouraged to pursue art degrees-whether it be studio, photography, or animation.  
“The realism part isn’t the problem, Yuki.” You sighed heavily as you finally were able to stand up straight. Adjusting your bag, and tucking your pencil pouch completely into you bag. The last thing you needed was to lose them… Those particular pencils were not cheap!  
You opened the binder, revealing the material list for the assignment. However, it was the header on the first page that immediately caught her attention… As it would any sensible person, outside of an art class.  
“Bare Human Realism? What? You have to paint a model?” Yuki asked curiously, as she tucked her hands behind her back. The street light across from the two of you changed, signaling it was safe to cross the street.  
Closing the binder, you nodded your head as you followed your friend with the crowd of students. Idle chit chat about upcoming assignments filled your ears as you passed them. Others talked with their friends about what they needed from the store.  
Just across the street from your campus, there was a train station that ran all over the city. You had meant to ask Yuki why she was dragging you out so late in the afternoon, only to have it slip your mind when you read over the directions for your assignment.  
A deep, scarlet blush painted across your cheeks as you nodded your head in reply. 

“Yeah… A nude model, to be precise.” You huffed. For many students in your class, such an assignment was not that big of an issue… Those same students also had significant others they could ask to pose for them, as well. You, on the other hand… Well, Yuki had said your reputation for being a stick in the mud would come back to haunt you, sooner or later.  
You just wish it had not come in the form of an assignment for class.  
“And you know how much I like to complain about Professor Yamada. The more complex the piece is, the more he’ll be impressed with it.” You added.  
Sliding glass doors slid open for the crowd, allowing you and Yuki to slide past everyone to the small machines along the wall. Yuki pulled her wallet from the breast pocket of her dark blue scrubs. Pulling out her student ID card, she swiped the card in the machine and pulled out a five thousand yen note. 

“I think you’ll be fine. You just have to find a model, right? I can ask Masao if he wouldn’t mind posing for you.” She offered as she slid the money in the machine. There was a slight whirring sound as the machine printed two tickets, and dispensed her change. 

“I thought about that, but I don’t think that’d be a good idea. That’s not fair to either of you, as a couple. Plus, I’m planning the backdrop before I plan my model poses. Depending on what I choose, he might not fit the scene.” You replied as Yuki handed you one of the train tickets.  
Taking the lead this time, you led her to the escalators at the end of the lobby. Standing off to the right, you led her down the moving stairway towards the tracks. Holding your bag close to your body so as not to disturb the others standing on the escalator to your left. 

“That’s true, I guess. I love Masao to death, but he can be a little plain for some of the things you paint.” Yuki chimed with a light hum.  
Well, at least she was willing to admit that about her boyfriend. It was good, apparently, for couples to recognize faults with their partners and be able to look past them. You had only ever casually dated, so you could not say for certain if that was true or not.  
Glancing up at the station signs above your head, you noticed that these the line printed on your ticket stopped in the Fourth Ward. Why would you be going there, you wondered…  
“Hey, Yuki… Where are we…” You trailed off as you turned your head to look at her. Her cellphone pressed to her ear, as she held one finger up towards you for silence. Dark brown eyes stared up at the signs above your head as she waited for whoever she was calling to answer.  
A large, warm smile immediately crossed her lips: a clear indication she had gotten through to the other person.  
“Well, good morning! Were you sleeping on the job, Uta?”  
You felt your heart drop at that… Uta… That ghoul from two weeks ago?! Within the last couple of weeks, you had actually forgotten that Yuki had wanted to take you to his studio. With the workload from your last project, and now the headache those one was turning out to be, it was a conversation that had long ago been pushed out of your mind.  
“Okay, okay. My bad. Anyway, I was just calling to let you know we were on the way. We should be there in about… ten minutes, maybe. Oh? Are you sure? Well, okay. See you then.”  
As she hung up the phone, Yuki looked back to you once again. One neatly trimmed brow quirked north at the shocked expression painted across your features.  
“What? Am I growing a second head? Wait! Don’t tell me my hair looks bad!”  
You shook your head, rolling your eyes at her skewed priorities. You would be more concerned with the former, if growing two heads were possible outside of prenatal mutation…  
“Why are we going there?” You demanded. 

“Because you wanted to see the shop. Plus, I told you Uta would be happy to know you made it home safely. What better way to do that, then by going to the shop?”  
Contrary to what Yuki said, you could think of at least four other ways to let him know that, then this. Not that you were not curious about the studio, you simply figured it would be rude to bother someone while they were working. You knew from experience that an artist at work was not a person meant to be disturbed while they were in the middle of something… How many times had you nearly thrown your scissors across your room at her for doing exactly that?  
“Relax. If it makes you feel better, we won’t be there for too long. Uta has an errand to run after the shop closes, so he’s going to walk us back to the station.” She explained as she placed her phone back in the pocket in her scrubs.  
You raised an eyebrow at her as you placed your hands in the pockets of your black skinny jeans. He was going to walk you both back? What was with this strange man? Was this some strange habit ghouls had when they wanted to size up their prey? If so, you did not think it was entirely effective…  
You started to ask her why he had made the offer when your train rushed through the open tunnel. It came to a stop within moments-doors opening to allow other passengers to step off the train.  
Following Yuki onto the train, your friend took one of the seats by the doors, while you remained standing. Pulling your bag off your shoulder, you handed the heavy accessory into Yuki’s outstretched hands.  
“Dang, F/N! I’m a med student, and I don’t think my bag is this heavy!” Yuki declared, though she kept her voice lower than usual.  
You shrugged your shoulders as other passengers boarded the train. As the doors closed, you felt terribly crowded in the tight space. It was hard to breathe around so many other people: the scents of mingling perfumes and colognes was almost enough to be dizzying. The train sped out of the station, rapidly traveling the tracks across the city.  
Afternoon sunlight shone through the large, plexiglass windows-causing you to squint your eyes slightly against the onslaught. Thankfully, the Fourth Ward was not too far away, traveling by train. It had taken you nearly two hours to walk that way, two weeks prior. By train, it was about a six minute ride.  
Something was bothering you, now that you had a chance to think about it. You wondered… Why had Yuki offered to take you to the shop today? If she really wanted you to go see this person, she could have simply called him to let him know you were coming, and given you directions to the place… Of course, that would be awkward for both you and the ghoul, but it would also be easier on Yuki. She had to have been busy studying for her next test.  
“Yuki, can I ask you something?” You asked before you could think to stop yourself.  
Dark eyes glanced away from the racing scenery over he shoulder at your voice. Her head tilted slightly in curiosity. Pale pink acrylic nails brushed a lock of light brown hair back behind her ear as she nodded.  
“Sure! What’s up?” 

“Do you have a reason to go to this shop? If it’s just a visit for me to thank him, then you could have stayed at the dorm to study, right?” You asked as you placed your free hand in the pocket of your jeans. The heel of your shoe tapped a bit anxiously against the solid, metal floor of the train.  
“You haven’t heard?!” She hissed under her breath.  
Immediately, you raised an eyebrow at your friend. What were you were supposed to hear about, you wondered. Judging by how she frantically looked around at the other passengers, it was not something she could say here.  
A sinking feeling of dread filled your heart-leaving a heavy weight in your chest as you pondered her words. Immediately, you thought back to the group of ghouls who had followed you all the way into the Fourth Ward. Had they somehow found out where you went to school, and were just waiting for the opportune moment… To get you alone for their late night meal?  
As if you were about to let that happen… You had escaped them once…  
The train pulled to a stop in the station for the Fourth Ward, sending the passengers around you into a frantic motion to gather their things, and depart the train.  
Yuki handed your bag back, slinging it over your shoulder the second you were able to move freely.  
“What am I supposed to know about?” You asked as you departed the train with her. Your eyebrow raised in obvious curiosity as you turned your head to look at her. 

“You’re so oblivious some times, F/N! Do you really not know about the Arcana?”  
You hummed in confusion at hr question. Arcana? You had heard of the arcana suits in a tarot deck, during last two years of high school. Some of the other students started playing games with the tarot cards, and would often recruit other members of the class to play with them. You remembered the game being unnecessarily complicated, and not entirely exciting to play.  
“Didn’t think you would be the spiritual type, Yuki.” You replied, figuring that must be what she meant by her question.

“That’s not what I’m talking about! It’s a ghoul gang! They float around the wards, so you never know where they are, or when they’ll attack someone! Remember those girls from the Twentieth Ward?”  
Now that she mentioned that, you did remember hearing about that broadcast nearly a month ago. It was report on a group of college girls who had been found in an elementary school playground-bodies in pieces, and mostly skeletal. A second year teacher had discovered the girls when he arrived to set up his classroom. You remembered the entire area being closed off for nearly a week and a half while the CCG investigated the scene.  
“That was a gang attack? How do you know?” You asked. 

“Because they leave trademarks to tell the CCG it was them. They always leave tarot cards, but it’s always different suites in the minor arcana deck. Though, even the investigators say that attack was considerably different from the others. But the deck is the same style.” Yuki explained.  
Taking the escalator up to the station lobby, you hummed in acknowledgement. A gang attack… You wondered if the ghouls chasing you were part of that gang… If so, then going to this ward again might not have been the smartest plan. Suddenly, you were thankful Yuki had decided to tag along, even if they had clearly displayed their ability to kill larger groups…  
Thinking back to the night Uta had walked you to the station, you suddenly felt more grateful than you had initially. If he had not taken the time to help you… Who knows what would have happened that night…


	5. Something Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter! Real life has sucked for a while... Kingdom Hearts and Resident Evil have not. I should be back to regular updates soon. Thank you for your patience, and please enjoy!

As you allowed Yuki to lead you out of the train station, you could not help but look around at your surroundings. In broad daylight, the Fourth Ward was actually not as terrifying as it had been that night. The ward was alight with the hustle and bustle of the late afternoon crowd. Groups of elementary school children walked with a carefree innocence behind their chaperones-swinging their bags around and chattering on about what their parents were going to make for dinner.  
Unaware of the deadly presence of ghouls that surrounded them every day of their lives. To you, it seemed like yesterday that you were also that blissfully naive of what really went on in the world around you. Long gone were the days of innocence-lost entirely when your junior high discovered ghoul children amongst it’s roster.  
“Don’t drag your feet, F/N. You’ll get lost that way!” Yuki called out.  
You sighed heavily as your eyes rolled in exasperation. As if that were even remotely true… Sure, you could be a little directionally challenged, but that did not mean you would get lost here. Compared to some of the other wards, the Fourth Ward was considerably smaller. Even if you were to lose your way, it would not be difficult to find your way back.  
Yuki led you down slightly familiar side streets, her hands laced casually behind her back as she hummed absently. You half wondered where she got this confident nonchalance, sometimes. Yuki was the sort of person who could go through most of her days without so much as considering the dangers that surrounded her. Of course, for the most part, you did as well. The only time you found yourself concerned with what could happen was on your nightly walk home. Short though it was, anything could happen…  
“Here we are! And Masao said I’d get us lost!” She chirped happily as she led you towards the studio’s entrance. Even in broad daylight, it was not hard to walk past the place if you were not sure what you were looking for. You followed her down the nex side street, through the small opening that led you down the same metal stairs you nearly fell down two weeks prior.  
The studio was fairly simplistic looking on the outside: it’s only distinguishing feature being the large, black sun that had been carefully painted onto the right side of the wall. Hysy ArtMask Studio, huh? Though you had read the name once before, you only just now wondered how that name came about.  
Yuki grasped the bronze door knocker in her fingers-tapping it three times before grasping the knob and pushing the door open.  
Inside the shop was rather different from what you had pictured on the way here. For as darkly as he dressed, the studio did not seem to be nearly the goth picture you had envisioned… That was not to say it was not a bit bizarre.  
Strange, almost threatening looking masks loomed down at you from seemingly every wall in the showfloor. When you had read the name on the shop, you had assumed it was more for masquerades and plays for festivals. Noh masks were commonly needed for the latter, and not many craftsmen would make them due to superstition. This… Was nothing like you had expected, you thought as you stepped away from your friend. Your back towards one of the display counters to get a better look at the far left wall.  
“Uta! We’re here!” Yuki called out.  
From behind the display counter, the shop owner poked his head up, just behind where you were standing. In his left hand, he held a small ring of keys, while his right held an eraser pencil. Unbeknownst to you, his gaze shifted from your unsuspecting form to the object in his right hand. Wondering… Should he…?  
Using the softer end of the eraser pencil, he carefully poked just under your shoulder blade. Thee foreign sensation shocked you-causing you to squeak out an, almost pitiful, cry.  
Whirling around, you leapt backwards-nearly crashing into Yuki in the process. Instinctively grasping your bag tightly to your body. You glared down at the shop owner, the beginnings of a lecture caught on the edge of your tongue. Human or ghoul, it was rude to scare people like that!  
“Goodness, Ms. F/N. Is she always so jumpy, Ms. Aikawa?” Uta’s soft, obviously unphased, voice inquired. The keys in his left hand twirled aimlessly around his finger as he pushed himself up to stand. He nonchalantly tossed the eraser pencil over his shoulder, landing it squarely in a pencil holder on his desk.  
“Eh…? Yeah, actually. She almost fell down the stairs to school because someone brought their bird with them, and it moved too quickly.” 

“Yuki!” You whined with an exasperated groan. Hanging your head in shame as both your friend, and the shop owner laughed at your plight. Some friend… 

“You seem to have trouble with stairs, Ms. F/N. Can I suggest we try using handrails?” He teased you gently as he leaned over the glass countertop. 

“Now hold on! That was only one time! Not to mention it’s..!” You trailed off gradually, despite wanting your words to have more conviction then they had. Something was… Off. When he had first frightened you, it had gone almost unnoticed.  
The more you looked at the ghoul, the more you noticed something… Missing?  
“Hm…” You hummed lightly as you narrowed your eyes at him. Yes, now it was quite obvious that something about his appearance had changed since the last time you saw him. 

His eyes… Were not the same color.


	6. An Even Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M/C has a wandering mind.

This… This was wrong. The ghoul’s eyes were not that color last time, were they? You blinked several times, needing to assure yourself that you were not hallucinating this. Though your memory was not always reliable, you were certain his eyes had definitely not been that color the last time you had met. Otherwise, you would not have been nearly as frightened of him.   
“Is something the matter?”   
Uta’s soft, almost melodic voice, seemed to snap you out of your thoughts. His curious, mysteriously light grey eyes, staring at your baffled expression. He had to be aware of your confusion, even if he did not say anything for your elaboration. His head tilted slightly to the side as he watched every subtle movement you made.   
“N-No… It’s just..” You stammered, trying to find the right words without mentioning THAT particular detail. Though you were not entirely certain, you did not think Yuki knew he was a ghoul. Masao might be a different story, but she was the sort of person who you knew did not care for ghouls at all.   
“You… Look different then the last time I saw you. I just can’t put my finger on it.”   
Surprisingly, Uta smiled kindly at you, his fingers brushing idly through the longer layers of his hair. You had half expected him to look at you like you were starting to sprout three extra heads.   
“Hm… I have trimmed my hair since then. You’re very observant, Ms. F/N.” He replied. Glancing over your shoulder, he spotted your friend wandering idly around the shop. She would do that every time she came here with her boyfriend.   
Noticing this as well, you pointed at your left eye with the tip of your finger-eyebrow raised in curiosity.   
“Oh, that? I can change my appearance however I want. To a certain degree, all of us can do that. It helps us blend in.” He explained. 

“But you were wearing sunglasses at night?” Your contradiction coming out more as a question then you wanted it to.   
“I don’t worry about what people think of me, outside my work. I’ll hide my true appearance for my abnormal customers.” His gaze shifting towards Yuki once again, letting you know he mainly referred to her. Hiding his appearance from you would have been pointless: knowing already that he was a ghoul.   
“I wouldn’t have had this studio for this long if I wore sunglasses all the time. Someone would have caught on by now.”   
Standing up straight, he stepped around the glass counter, his attention now on Yuki. Your friend curiously browsing the masks currently on display in the shop. She cooed over some of the more intricate ones; saying how good her boyfriend would look in one of he tried.   
Part of you wondered what purpose Masao would have for a mask from a shop like this. You knew he was part of a local acting club, so you had always assumed the mask Yuki spoke of was a Noh mask of some sort. Nothing like this would have ever come to mind.   
“Ms. Aikawa, if you’re shopping for Masao, I must say that these aren’t going to work for him.” He regretfully told her. 

“Well, he does have a weird looking nose.” You chided. 

“Hang on, F/N! That’s not fair! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Yuki whined, her petite face resembling that of a child who just had their favorite toy taken away from them. It was almost pitiful to look at, and you were her friend! 

“But am I wrong?” 

“Actually… No, you’re not.” Uta chimed in. He made made the mask, so he would know.   
Yuki raised a playful brow at the mask maker, her hands resting neatly on her hips. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to give out a client’s secrets.” 

“A secret is only considered that if it isn’t obvious, Ms. Aikawa.” He replied, the soft smile on his face nothing short of the same playfulness. You wondered, half heartedly, if it was genuine. Did ghouls feel the same emotions humans did?   
From what Uta had told you the last time you met, it seemed they had preferences for how much adrenaline was in their meat…   
Your stomach churning from that memory, you were grateful for the change of subject. 

“Ms. Aikawa called ahead earlier. She said you were having trouble with a project for your class?” He prompted, turning his attention once again towards you.   
Almost immediately, you felt a deep, scarlet blush creep up on your cheeks. She had done WHAT?! How much did she tell him?! Mortification settles low in the pit of your stomach at the very idea of Yuki explaining the details of your project to a stranger.   
There was no way that was possible, though. The rational part of your brain knew this. Sure, you had been lamenting over this project for a few days, but you had not shared the details of it until today…  
What if she had read the details online?!   
Wait… Did your professor even do that?   
What if he did, though?! 

“Wow… F/N kind of looks like a boiled octopus!” Yuki chimed. Her dark eyes alight with a sudden mischief you knew would get you in some trouble. The girl neatly laced her hands behind her back as she smiled. She was definitely planning something nefarious… 

“She’s working on a realism painting. F/N might not look the part, but she’s an excellent artist.”

You rolled your eyes at her.   
“Gee, thanks.” You muttered.   
Choosing to ignore you, Yuki continued. 

“It’s dark realism, to be accurate. Part of the project requires a nude model. But the only person she could think to ask is Masao, and…” 

“He wouldn’t really fit the part for dark realism. The idea is to have the piece be beautiful, yet also ensue the feeling of sadness in one’s heart.” Uta finished, his light grey eyes shifting quickly towards you. It still seemed so strange to you: seeing human eyes on a man you knew to be a ghoul.   
“Interesting… You don’t seem like someone who would paint dark realism.” He said, almost like it was meant to be a thought to himself. The way his head tilted slightly as he watched your expression change ever so slightly… It almost seemed like he was studying you.   
“She does kind of seem the abstract sort, doesn’t she? But realism is where she shines.” Yuki added.   
Deepening the blush on your cheeks as you cast your gaze at one of the mask lined walls. All this gushing made you a little self conscious in your own skin. There was not really anything special about what you could do, by your own estimation. Realism, if one spent enough time staring at anatomy books and the science models in class, could be learned by anyone. There were plenty of other students, and potential students, that you thought deserved the same recognition… If not more. 

“Oh! I’ve got an idea! Do you think you could model for her, Uta?”   
Yuki’s question slammed against you like a ton of bricks. Sputtering slightly at your own gasp as you snapped a stunned stare in her direction. Your eyes wide as she only smiled helpfully at you.   
“Don’t give me that face! He’d fit the part waaaay better than Masao ever could!” She chirped.   
You could only stare helplessly, too shocked to put up anything resembling an argument.   
If given enough time, you could come up with at least five reasons why that would be a bad idea. Painting a ghoul for a class? You would be dropped so fast, you would not know what happened! How could you justify something like that?!   
Painting such a portrait… Pale skin an ethereal glow under the light of a moon, obscured by storm clouds. His dark, henna like tattoos coming alive under the shadows. How much of his skin did they actually cover?   
Something silky in his grasp-a gown of sorts-held close as though it were the most precious thing in the world. The neck of the gown pressed against his lips; body kneeling on the faux marble tile. Sadness, even if it were a false feeling, emanated from the idea: as though the gown he held belonged to someone he cherished… Someone who was no longer here.   
The soft brush of silk against him pulling the sweetest little moans from him as a single tear slipped from his dark, crimson eye-just begging to be kissed away…   
Such a portrait didn’t belong in an art class… More like a well produced AV film with how alive you pictured him, despite the feeling of underlying loss.   
The motion of Yuki snapping her freshly manicured fingers in front of your face dragged you from your delusion. When had you spaced out? 

“Hey! Earth to F/N! Are you listening?”  
Swatting her hand away, you sighed heavily at her. 

“Can you try, for two minutes, to maybe think before you speak? You can’t go up to people and ask if they want to strip and pose for a painting.” You chastised, feeling almost like a parent scolding their child. You loved your friend to death, but she was not the type who thought too far ahead. Nor did she really consider the consequences if things did not go her way. You and Masao both had separate conversations with her about that little habit of hers, but to no avail.   
Puffing her cheeks slightly, Yuki neatly folded her arms over her chest. Her neatly trimmed brow raised slightly in defiance. Reminding you, again, of the parent and child analogy, if the child were a rebellious teenager. Where did you go wrong, you jokingly wondered.   
“Well, it’s not like you were gonna ask him. Besides-”

“I think,” Uta chimed in after some quick thought. You might have imagined it, but you were quite certain you saw mischief come alive in his eyes. One hand came to rest on his hip, allowing his cardigan to slip off his shoulder slightly. You could just make out the outer edges of a sun tattoo peeking above the collar of his shirt.   
“It would be interesting. I’d like to see what kind of painting you come up with, Ms. F/N. Although, I haven’t modeled in a few years…”

“That’s okay! I’ll help you with that.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even think to try and contradict him. It was only after you finished that you realized how out of context that could sound.   
Uta seemed to take it in stride, thankfully. His brow only raised for a fraction of a second before he smiled kindly at you, once again.   
Reaching over the counter, he grabbed a small, black card. The same sun design on the outside of the shop embossed into the card stock in shimmering white. Below that, in the same color, was the studio’s name and the phone number for the shop.   
“The studio’s number is my personal number. You can call or text me anytime. But, I would like to ask something in exchange.” He told you as he handed offered the card to you.   
You gratefully accepted the card, pulling your phone out of your pocket to slip the card in the small pocket case. You were, surprisingly, relieved. You did not expect to find a willing model so early after receiving the complete assignment. In fact, you were fully preparing yourself to have the entire scene lined up and painted, yet still struggling to find the model.   
Now that you had found your rational mind, you realized that you could paint his eyes like this: that mysterious light grey. Though, you had to admit, the thought was not nearly as thrilling.   
“Of course!” You agreed immediately. 

“I’d like to sketch you, sometime.”   
You tilted your head to the side. Sketch you? Though not an odd request, it was definitely not what you had expected. Then again, Yuki had said he was also an artist; he would have to be in order to make the masks.   
“Sure,” You replied with a kind, albeit nervous smile. He was cordial enough, but he was still a ghoul, after all. Letting your guard down, even when he modeled for you, might prove to be deadly.   
“That sounds like an even trade.”


	7. Strange Smells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two new faces appear in the shop, soon after leaving. Are they customers? Friends of Uta’s? Or... Something more malicious?

Before any of you had realized it, several hours had passed by far too quickly for your liking. Hours spent talking and laughing with your friend, and the shop owner flew by without you so much as batting an eye. Normally, you tried to keep a strict schedule on school days-making sure to start your studying no later than 6:30 at night. Yet, here you still were, now closer to 7:30, and no closer to leaving the shop. Something about this man made him rather easy to talk to. Perhaps, it was that you both seemed to have similar artistic views… Though you would have chosen something less bizarre to display them with… Probably…  
Uta was able to work surprisingly well around the pair. They were courteous enough to give him the space he needed whenever a client came inside. While he measured and sketched, he almost forgot they were still there with how quiet they had been. He appreciated their manners: some humans could be loud and boisterous.   
He was halfway through stitching up a popped seam on a client’s well worn mask when he noticed F/N staring almost intently at him. His hands, specifically, seemed to be the focus of her attention.   
“Is something the matter, Ms. F/N?” He asked carefully.   
The girl shook her head, her H/C bouncing slightly with the movement. As she did so, the young lady then adjusted the strap on her bag. He had offered that she could set it down if she liked, given how heavy it appeared. Even from where he was sitting, he could see that the canvas was straining under the weight of her tools and textbooks. He knew from experience how much artists tried to carry with them on a regular basis. Yet, she would not hear it-saying that it would be rude to “make herself at home in his place of business”... So formal…   
“No, nothing’s wrong… I was just wondering…”   
The trail of her voice made him tilt his head slightly. Wondering what? How someone who actively hunted and killed for human flesh could have the patience to create and repair such pieces? Or, perhaps she was curious about the need for a ghoul run mask shop… There had been rumors running around a year or so ago that he was a ghoul, and he would still occasionally have clients come in simply to confirm or disprove that rumor.   
“Did someone teach you how to make masks?” She finally finished, and with a question that took him a bit by surprise. Was that it? If so, that question was rather anticlimactic…   
“No, I’m self taught. I’ve been doing this on and off since I was seventeen.” He replied. 

“As far as we all know, he’s the only mask maker in this part of town, and he’s been here a while. What better way to learn then with practice?” Yuki chimed in as she slid her phone out from the breast pocket of her scrubs. 

“I’m not that old, Ms. Aikawa…” 

“Oh! Masao just got off work, and said he’ll take us back to campus, if you’re ready to go, F/N.”  
The truth was, you were not at all ready to leave… You could not remember the last time you had been off campus and out of your dorm for this long without the stress of you next test coming up. Mid terms were still several weeks away, and you were already fairly confident in your ability to pass them. On top of that, you did not have to worry about finding a model for your next assignment, now… So what would be the harm in staying out a bit later than normal?  
As if hearing that last thought, Uta spoke up.   
“It is getting late, actually. I don’t mean to rush you out, but I do have to meet someone after I close the studio.” 

“Eh?! You should have said something, Uta! We wouldn’t have loafed around for so long, if we had known that!” Yuki chided, a light flush of embarrassment gracing the apples of her cheeks. As a busy student, you know for a fact how much she hated having time wasted. Keeping someone waiting could mean the difference in their life, in her chosen field of school…   
That, and it was simply rude to tie up someone’s valuable time. 

Uta chuckled lightly, setting the mask and needle down as he stood up from his desk. It’s not like that meeting was not a couple of hours from now… However, it would not hurt to start closing up a little early tonight. He did still have to take a quick inventory of his materials before he left for Itori’s place.   
“It’s only loafing around if I consider you a nuisance. It was actually quite nice to have the company.”   
Yuki sighed heavily as she replaced her phone in her scrubs, then snatched you by the sleeve of your hoodie.   
“We appreciate you putting up with us… Especially the patience it takes to put up with her.” You replied, gesturing to your friend as she dragged you towards the door leading up to the stairway.   
“Rude!” 

“I appreciate you both coming. Feel free to call whenever you’re ready to start your project.” Uta told you, passing a playful wink at you as Yuki stepped outside the shop.   
“R-right… Thank you, again, for the help.” You replied with a polite, albeit nervous, bow.   
“C’mon, F/N! Masao’s on his way now!” Yuki chided as she snatched you by the arm and dragged you out of the shop. 

She was cute, Uta would give her that. Though she seemed unsure and leery of him, he could not find it in himself to fault her for that. Still, he would not deny that he was rather surprised with how quickly she accepted his offer. Most humans would sooner fail their class than ask a ghoul to model for their project.   
Turning on his heel, he shrugged the matter off. Strange creatures, these humans were. Try as he might, he may never truly understand them.   
He was fine with this arrangement; living both together and separate from them. They were interesting to observe from a distance; he once heard a ghoul attributing this to how humans marveled at zoo animals. While lacking tact, he supposed it was not far off from the truth.   
As he stepped behind the counter, he retrieved his wheel of leather needles and a spool of burgundy colored thread. He placed the items, as well as a pair of scissors, in the pocket of his cardigan just in time to hear the door open again.   
At first, he thought it might have been either you or Yuki. However, he sensed something… Off. He could not quite put his finger on it, but the new presence was certainly not human… He would barely call it ghoul, either.   
Blinking to clear the illusion of human eyes, he turned to look over his shoulder. Across the threshold of the entrance, he saw two men enter the shop. Their heads lowered, making it impossible to see their faces.   
From where he was standing, the men looked quite skinny-as though they had not eaten a full meal in their lives. One of the men wore a dark, rather dirty, violet hoodie: keeping the hood up to further obscure his face.   
Uta raised an eyebrow as he stepped up to the glass counter. Was that the same guy from that morning? The color of the hoodie would certainly indicate that.   
“Can I help you with anything?” He asked, making little effort to mask the suspicion in his voice.

“We’re looking for something specific… My friend was in the area this morning, and might have dropped something around this shop. You wouldn’t have happened to see anything, have you?”   
Uta hummed in acknowledgement as he leaned over the glass counter. If the other man was who he suspected, then they were definitely after that little bag of strange smelling tablets… So much for them being nothing, he thought. Now he was even more curious to find out what they were.   
Standing up straight, he pulled the spool of thread and needles out of his pocket. There was no sense in worrying over these two, he thought. Of course, he had no intention of returning the mysterious items to them. Certainly not before he found out what they were.   
“No, I can’t say that I have. Maybe someone turned them into the police station for you.” He answered. 

“Don’t play dumb with us!” The ghoul in the hoodie snapped. Reaching up with his left hand, he clawed viciously at a slow healing wound on the side of his neck. Fresh blood seeped into the cotton fabric, further staining the garment beyond repair.   
He glared at Uta, eyes a sickly dull pink, rather than a vibrant crimson.   
Uta’s lips parted slightly as he tilted his head to the side.   
“Oh… That’s interesting…” He murmured. 

“I know they’re here! Now tell me where you’re hiding them!”   
He takes audibly at the ghoul’s demands. His left hand reached into the pocket of his cardigan for his scissors. Against a normal ghoul, they would not do much damage… Not unless he aimed correctly, that is.   
He wandered out from behind the counter once again, nonchalantly brushing aside the longer side of his hair. Despite his casual stance, his eyes were sharp-regarding the pair before him as if they were little more than annoying insects.   
“I’d suggest you both learn some manners before giving orders in a ward you’re a guest in. But… I don’t think either of you will be walking out of here.”   
The pair lunged at him-scattering displays over the floor. Ceramic mannequins shattered against tile, piercing shards through carefully sewn leather.   
Brilliant shades of red and violet formed around their shoulder blades-Ukaku users.   
Uta sidestepped the first ghoul, acting on reflex to attack with the scissors in his hand. Rather than snap in half, the blades pierced through the juncture of the ghoul’s shoulder. He howled in agony as warm, rancid smelling blood seeped onto Uta’s hand.   
With his free hand, he snatched the second ghoul by the collar of his hoodie. Throwing him backwards against one of the few standing mannequins. Despite their Kagune, they were not much faster than the average ghoul. In fact, he thought they were quite slow.   
The first ghoul wrenched himself free of the scissors, further spilling more blood onto the tile floor. The heavy stench of iron and medicine permeated throughout the shop, making him feel nauseous.   
As he leapt back, Uta noticed right away that the wound he had caused was not healing. Blood continued to stain the ghoul’s clothing and run down his arm and soiled the scattered masks he haphazardly kicked to the side. If he had not been looking right at their kagunes, he would have thought these boys were normal humans… Stupid humans, but humans nonetheless. 

“You bastard…”

“That’s quite rude, coming from someone brazen enough to attack me in my own studio.” He chided as he slid the scissors back into his pocket. His dark gaze took a quick sweep of the floor in front of him. So much for getting to Itori’s place in any semblance of on time… Cleaning up this mess would take at least forty minutes. 

“Just give back what you stole, and we won't have to kill you!” The second ghoul demanded as he wrenched ceramic free from the back of his shoulders. His pale eyes broiled with anger and desperation. He reminded Uta of the slum dwellers that hung around the back alleys of the Red Light District.   
He could not help the light laugh that escaped his throat at their demands. Kill him? If this was their best effort, then he would have nothing to worry about…   
Uta rushed towards them, head lowered and hands clenched tightly into fists. The ghoul he had stabbed ducked down a moment too late as he slammed against him-piercing through the unusually delicate flesh with little more than an afterthought.   
He staggered slightly against the lack of resistance. Wrenching his hand free of the ghoul as he collapsed to the floor. The wretched smell of iron and medicine permeated the air around him-churning his stomach as though someone had just put normal food in front of him.   
The second ghoul then leaped at him: shards of crimson glass showered down at him from the ghoul’s kagune. They sliced deep into his pale flesh, covering him with seeping wounds that would just as quickly heal within a few moments. As the ghoul swung at him with his right hand, Uta snatched him by the wrist and there him into the tile. Grabbing the scissors from his cardigan again, he stabbed through the ghoul’s pale flesh-holding him down as he writhed against the tile floor.   
He pressed the scissors further into his neck. Being so close to the putrid blood oozing from the wound, he could only curl his lip in disgust. Seconds dragged on into minutes, turning minutes into hours as he waited for the ghoul to cease his struggling.   
Broken, bitten down fingers clawed at the grout as the ghoul tried his best to throw Uta off him, but to no avail. Within minutes, the form collapsed beneath his hand-becoming chillingly stiff.   
Uta grunted lowly as he wrenched the scissors free from the ghoul’s thin flesh, tossing them aside with little care. He would have to buy a new set within the next two or three days, if he wanted to get any work done.   
A tic started working it’s way through his jaw as he surveyed the damage done to his shop within less than ten minutes. He sighed heavily as he stepped around the side of the glass counter to grab a light gray hand towel. After wiping his hands free of blood, he plucked his phone up from his work desk and called Itori. 

“U-San! There you are! You’re awfully late, you know. Didn’t you say this was important?” Itori chastised as soon as she answered the phone. Though her voice was a tad shrill, he could tell she was concerned-it was rare for him to not be on time whenever they met up.   
“I know, I know… Something at the shop came up.” He replied as he pulled open the drawer in front of him. Right on top of his extra tools sat the small bag from that morning. This was what those ghouls were after, of that he was certain… Why though? They did not look like much, though they certainly did smell as horrible as they did.   
“Oh? Business?” Itori asked, interest piquing. 

“You could say that, I suppose.” Reaching in with his free hand, he pulled the bag out and shoved it into his pocket.   
“Regardless, I’ll be there in… Probably thirty more minutes. I just have to…” His gaze returned to the two corpses lying in the middle of the sales floor. “Clean up a little, first.”

“Ah… Gotcha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for taking so long to post an update to this fanfic! My muse just decided it was time to take an extra long holiday when she found out we had a fight scene to write. I hope my bribing of chocolate and jasmine tea have lured her back for a while.
> 
> For real, though, I am terribly sorry for taking this long to post.. What I feel, could be a hundred times better. Unfortunately, fight scenes are not something I have a whole lot of experience with... Dialogue and sex, sure... But fighting... eh...   
> If anyone has any tips, I would greatly appreciate it! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, regardless of how bad the fight scene was. ^_^;;


	8. The Arcana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon arriving at Helter Skelter, Uta begins asking for some much needed answers.

By the time he had finished cleaning up the mess left behind by the ghouls, it was close to two hours after he had called Itori. Luckily for him, she was a staunch night owl, and owned a bar in the Fourteenth Ward.   
Visibly, his shop was now free of any discernible traces of blood. However, it would take weeks for the lingering stench to go away. Providing the warm weather held up, he might be able to leave the doors open to speed up the process.   
Though he was thankful for the foresight to keep a change of clothes in his shop, he would have much preferred not to have to use them. By his own estimation, they did little to mask the scent of the attack. He had scrubbed his hands raw, and still he could smell their putrid blood. So much so that he was certain his tattoo cover sleeves would need replacing after tonight.   
Uta did not generally ride the train-much less to visit Itori. He found them far too noisy, and crowded. Most of what he needed for work was within walking distance, as well-leaving him with no reason to use the train lines unless he absolutely had to.  
On most occasions, he would walk to Itori’s bar-it was relatively quiet on the way there, around this time of night… However, he thought as he stepped into a mostly vacant train car, most nights were not precursed with unprovoked attacks.   
Uta sighed lightly as he slid his headphones on and took hold of the metal pole to his left. The pulsing beats of synthesizers and distorted voices drowning out the noise of wheels barreling down steel tracks. Thankfully, the ride would be short, and the bar was close to the station.   
With only two other passengers in the train car, it was a quiet ride to the Fourteenth Ward. As the train pulled into the station, he was first to step onto the platform. Pressing the tinted glass up into place, he took the stairs leading up to the street quickly. He kept his head lowered slightly, brushing past the few small crowds of people in the station lobby.   
“U-San! There you are!” The sound of a shrill, feminine voice spoke above the techno music pulsing through his headphones. He glanced up, spotting the source of the voice standing a few feet away from the stairway.   
Sliding the headphones around his neck, he casually approached the woman. His hands tucked into the pockets of his black pants, making certain the tablets were still there.   
Itori was a tad shorter than he was, even with the heels she would typically wear. Her long, peachy colored hair pulled up from her shoulders in an elegant braided updo. She wore a slinky black dress that stopped halfway down her thighs.   
“Thirty minutes, huh?” She chastised, a half smirk crossing her rose painted lips. One neatly trimmed brow quirked north at him.   
Uta shrugged nonchalantly as he stepped past her to exit the station, with Itori following after him. The pair stepped out into the warm night-the sounds of lingering office workers leaving for the night filling the quiet air. They chatted idly on their cell phones, or mumbled breathlessly to themselves as they brushed past him to enter the train station.   
“I told you I had to clean up, first.” He reminded her. 

“I know, I know. That’s a bit excessive, though. You’re usually not that messy: I can still smell them on you. So you better have details, when we get back.” She replied as she neatly laced her hands behind her back.   
Uta sighed heavily as Itori took a few steps ahead of him. Taking the lead, she whistled lightly as they passed under humming neon signs. Given the time of night, there were not many cars on the road beside them. Office workers brushed past them, muttering idly to themselves or on their cellphones.   
The pair paused long enough to wait for one crosswalk light to change, before veering sharply to the right.   
Helter Skelter, as many ghoul run establishments, was a bit out of the way, compared to most bars in the area. From the outside, there were hardly any discernible features that suggested there would be any sort of business there. All that stood out was a small, brightly glowing sign to the left of the doorway.   
On the door, another sign hung at eye level. 

‘Back in ten minutes’

“That reminds me, Itori. What were you doing at the station? I didn’t tell you I was taking the train.” Uta mused curiously as he followed her inside the bar.   
Soft lights dimly illuminated the main seating area. Along the far left wall was a long, freshly polished bar table-a single wine bottle filled with dark liquid sitting in the center of the table.   
She led him through the empty bar, pausing only long enough to take he sign down and tuck it under her arm. The sound of her burgundy heels against the polished wood flooring seemed to echo slightly in the high arched ceilings.   
Itori stepped behind the bar counter, while Uta sat on the other side.   
“Women’s intuition. Anytime you’re this late, its a safe be that you aren’t walking.” She responded. 

“So you guessed.” He sighed heavily. 

Itori laughed light heartedly at his exasperation. Reaching up, she pulled two wine glasses down from the racks above her head. As she set them down, she bent down to feel around for a corkscrew resting just underneath the bar counter.   
“Call it what you want, but you can’t say I was wrong. Besides, the worst case scenario would be,” She paused mid sentence as she grabbed the bottle. Working the corkscrew through the thin layer of wax that kept the bottle completely sealed was always a tricky task. She pursed her lips ever so slightly as she carefully popped the cork free from it’s green tinted confines.   
“That you would have had to wait an extra five minutes for me to get back. You took the last train, so it’s not like I would have kept you waiting that long.”   
A sweet aroma slowly filled the space between them as Itori tossed the cork into a small trash bin behind her. It bounced off the liquor shelves before landing noisily in the bin.   
She poured his glass first, filling it just above halfway and setting it down in front of him.   
“Drink that. You look like you need to unwind.” She said as she poured her own glass.   
Uta did not typically drink, unless he came to this bar. Of course, there Helter Skelter was the only bar, within walking distance of the Fourth Ward, that ghouls could frequent and find something to suit their fancy.   
Even then, he would not often drink much-just enough to clear his head and ease the tension in his shoulders. Much as he did not want to admit it, he did need something to unwind after tonight.   
With a light sigh, he picked the glass up and sipped the contents. 

“What did you need to talk to me about, anyway? You hardly ever come here for information, unless it’s for Renji.” Itori inquired as she lightly tapped her pastel pink varnished nails over the glass. One neatly trimmed brow raised slightly in unabashed curiosity. Her grin seemed friendly enough, if a bit devious.   
She had been this way for many years: pressing for whatever information she could get out of someone. She seemed to get some sort of satisfaction whenever someone came to her for intel that could, often times, not be found anywhere else. She had informants throughout the city of Tokyo, and always seemed to have her eyes on everyone who came into contact with her.   
“My shop was attacked tonight.” He stated without a moment of hesitation. 

“I heard. One of my informants said a couple of shady looking guys waltzed in there. Didn’t believe him at first, but then you called not long after he left.” She replied.   
Uta could not say he was entirely surprised. Rather, he would be more surprised if she had not known about the attack. She always seemed to pay particular attention to both him and Renji…

“What’d they have against you? You’re not the leader of the Ward, anymore… Officially, anyway.” She mused as the glass pressed to her plush, rose painted lips. To her surprise, Uta shrugged his shoulders as he set his glass down on the bar counter. His black varnished nails scraped idly along the frosted rim of the glass as he cupped his cheek in the palm of his free hand. She knew that much, but not the reason behind the attack?   
“Your informant’s slacking.” 

“He’s only one ghoul, U-San. Don’t be so harsh.” She replied. 

He sighed lightly as he released his hold on the glass. Reaching into the pocket of his pants, he vaguely wondered how Itori would react to something like this. Of course, he knew this was necessary if he wanted any answers, yet he could not deny his own caution. While he tried his damndest, even he was not oblivious to the news reports as of late.   
He pulled out the small bag of tablets, tossing them onto the bar counter for Itori’s inspection.   
“I found these earlier this morning. Two ghouls, who I have never seen before, came to my shop looking for them.” He explained.   
Almost immediately, Itori’s lip curled in disgust-a rather unattractive face for someone like her. Her brows knitted together as she set her own glass down with such fury, he was halfway surprised it did not shatter from the force. Honey red eyes glared down at him, as though his explanation had brought her more offense and inconvenience than it had him.   
“You found these? And you kept them?!”   
Uta’s dark eyes narrowed at her, his patience wearing thin in only a matter of moments. He might have known her for many years, but that certainly did not mean he would put up with her speaking so rudely anymore than he would a complete stranger.   
He neatly folded his arms over the polished bar counter, leaning forward ever so slightly and arching his spine.   
“How about you try that again. I would choose your tone a bit more carefully.” His voice no less soft, yet dark with his irritation.   
Itori visibly stiffened, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip for a split second. She had not meant to snap at him like that, speaking mostly out of surprise rather than anger. He had come here looking for information-having something to narrow down the information she could give him was, generally, an exceptionally helpful occurrence-rare though it might be.   
On top of that, she knew from first hand experience that Uta was not the sort of person who had ever taken disrespect with any form of grace. Sure, he had mellowed out over the years, she was certain he could still be just as cruel as he had been while leading the Fourth Ward.   
She tsked audibly as she snatched the small bag up and tossed it into a small fireplace behind the bar counter. The tablets bounced off the iron grating, only to land in the smoldering flames moments later. Her shoulders relaxed with each passing second, the grip on her glass loosening to a more comfortable hold. A heavy sigh of exasperation slipping past her plush lips. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that… But you really shouldn’t walk around with those in your pocket, if you can help it.”   
Uta tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, his brow raised in confusion. If he could have helped it, then he certainly would not have asked to spend two hours scrubbing the smell of those ghouls from his shop. He was half convinced the burning tablets were causing the bar to smell like them, though it did not seem Itori noticed any difference. Of course, she was also not the one who had rancid ghoul blood lingering on her skin.   
“I can promise you this: I would not have held onto them if I could have helped it. They smell horrible.” He replied as he cupped his cheek in the palm of his hand once again.   
“Care to humor me, and tell me what they are?”   
A visible tic started in Itori’s jaw at his question. Her right hand swept through her peach toned bangs as she sighed heavily. Uta might have imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw a visible slump in her slender shoulders. Something told him this would take a while… 

“You’ve heard of the Arcana, right?” She asked suddenly. 

“Arcana? You mean the ghoul gang from the Seventeenth Ward?”   
She shook her head slightly as she sipped the contents of her glass once again. This time, she took a larger pause to drink then before. Her fingernails tapped against the countertop as she considered her words. 

“That’s just where they were last seen. No one really knows where they came from, actually. Even top investigators can’t pinpoint their origins, and they’ve been trying to figure that much out for the past few months.”   
She picked the bottle up once again, pouring herself another glass of the bloody red substance. Only, this time, she filled her glass completely, rather than only half full. 

“It’s never the same people, but they pick different wards to show up in and cause trouble.”

“Then how are we so certain these incidents are connected?” Uta interjected. So far, he could not see how any of this information was relevant to what he had come here for. Of course, she was no doubt leading up to that… However, with everything that had happened tonight, he was anxious to figure out who these people were. If they were connected to the Arcana, then it was safe to say that there would be more of them coming after him.   
“There’s two… Well, technically three ways, that we know they’re connected. The first is the most obvious: that being the tarot cards left at their crime scenes. From what the investigators have gathered, specific suites in the deck represent specific kagune users. The most prominent attackers are Koukaku users, meaning that a majority of cards found are from the sword suite.”   
Uta hummed in acknowledgement. 

“So that would mean there’s about… Seventy or so in the gang, as a whole?” He guessed.

“Possibly, yes. If they use the standard amount of tarot card numbers for their gang, that is. That means there would be twenty-two major arcana players-most likely the kingpins of the gang. And fifty-six minor arcana players, which would be the ones we hear about on the news.” She responded.   
Uta released a light sigh as he swept a hand through his hair. While this was interesting, he could not see where they connected to the mysterious tablets he had found. To him, the gang’s wandering seemed to be coincidental, but nothing beyond that.   
As if hearing his thoughts, Itori spoke once again.  
“Anytime the gang travels-whether it be the entire group or otherwise-they bring those tablets with them.”  
Now she had his attention.   
“I don’t know much about them, to be perfectly honest. From what my informants have gathered, they’re the same idea as a human’s appetite suppressant. If I had to take a wild guess, I’d say they’re probably the same sugar base Anteiku uses. But, beyond that, the chemical makeup suppresses the ghoul’s appetite. Taken in excess, though, they begin to shut down and deteriorate the kakuhou.”   
Uta thought back to the two ghouls from earlier. The kakuhou was the organ responsible for producing the RC cells in the body. In ghouls, RC cells concentrated into their kagune, after being rapidly released from the kakuhou and piercing through the ghoul’s skin.   
He had never heard of a case of any kakuhou being synthetically broken down. In fact, Uta could not recall a single instance where such a theory had ever been proposed before. Where had this come from, he wondered. However, he supposed it would explain why the two ghouls he had dealt with were so… Sickly, he supposed would be the most appropriate word.   
“And ghouls actively take these?” He asked, finding the idea almost preposterous.   
Itori nodded subtly. 

“Under the guise that they can be used to keep the hunger at bay. Evidently, taken occasionally, they stave off hunger but still give the ghoul an energy boost similar to what they would get from eating. You know as well as I do that certain wards don’t have nearly as much prey to go around. Easy targets, if they’re that desperate to blend in.”   
He supposed that made a bit more sense. Depending on the ward, there were ghouls who would prefer to be left alone and blend in with human society. The Twentieth Ward, in particular, was considered to be the most quiet.   
“At the cost of their regenerative abilities, from what I saw.” 

“If it keeps RC cells in production, I guess. The body does some strange things to keep its defenses up.”  
Uta hummed lightly as he picked his glass up once again. Dark eyes studied the contents of the glass, as though he might find an answer the longer he thought about it.   
“This gang… Who runs it? Have the come forward?” He asked. 

“Not officially. But the media has a name for them.” Itori replied as she sipped down half her own glass. A light dusting of rose painted her pale cheeks, no doubt from the blood wine coursing through her bloodstream. 

“Card number three: The Empress.”


	9. A New Face, or An Old Rival?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving Uta’s studio, you begin having second thoughts. Is it really a good idea to ask a ghoul for help? What sort of backlash would there be? How quickly would the school flat out expel you?  
> As you mull over these invasive thoughts, a new face arrives with a bizarre question, and even more bizarre knack.

“Sheesh, F/N! Don’t you think you’re stressing out a little too much? You have enough time to set everything up, and already have a model.” Yuki’s words were meant to be encouraging, despite the heavy sigh of exasperation she released at the same time. Her thought process behind how she expressed her concerns could be considered harsh, though her small group of friends had long ago grown accustomed to her.  
However, you thought, there was nothing you could currently not stress about. Ever since leaving the ghoul’s studio, you had been having second thoughts. At the time, you were so thrilled to have found someone willing to model for you, that you had not even considered the repercussions. Using a ghoul for a school project… If by some miracle the CCG did not come and arrest you, then you would surely be expelled for it.  
This was not to say you did not feel bad about rethinking your decision. In fact, for what you had already roughly sketched, Uta would have fit the scenes beautifully.  
Of course, you had considered the possibility of painting the piece with him and replacing his dark eyes with more… Natural looking eyes.  
A solid idea, to start with. However, something in your heart made you feel guilty for even thinking that. While it may not have detracted any from the painting, that was not fair to the mask maker. Though you could not say why, you felt in your heart that he would say the same thing, if approached with the idea.  
Heaving a heavy sigh, you swept graphite stained fingers through your hair as you glanced back up at your wooden artist model. This would be the next best thing, compared to using a real person. You would just have to flesh out facial structures and features later on.  
Yuki leaned across the table you both sat at, snapping her fingers in front of your face to catch your undivided attention.  
“Huh? What?” You asked, your brows knitting together to show your unabashed irritation. You were just on the verge of a breakthrough! 

“You look like you haven’t slept in days,”

Not too far off from the truth.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?”  
As much as you wanted to tell her, there was only so much you could vent. Uta had already said that, as far as Yuki was concerned, he was just an average human mask maker. Albeit, a little strange for a human, but a human nonetheless. There was no way you could tell her that he was a ghoul-not when it seemed she and Masao were so close with him.  
“I’m just worried, a little. I’ve… Never used a model like him before, so I’m not entirely sure of what to do. And I’ve only got so much time before the project’s due.” That seemed to be the safest answer, you thought. Not too conspicuous, but not entirely dodging the question, either.  
Yuki, much to your relief, seemed to accept this as an answer: humming in acknowledgement as she cupped her cheek in her hand. Her deep brown eyes staring, almost blankly, back at you. If she thought you were tired, then she had clearly not looked into a mirror lately.  
Dark rings underlined her eyes, making them appear slightly sunken in. Her light brown hair thrown into a loose, hasty ponytail. She had even forgone her concealer-something that did not happen until it was time for finals. Although, there was her upcoming test at the end of the week...  
Even if your could tell her what was going on, you would have kept quiet. There was no reason to add onto her problems with your own.  
“Maybe you should call him and figure it out? Have you talked to him at all, since then?” She asked.  
You averted your gaze to the freshly trimmed grass beneath your table. There, she had you. While it had certainly been on your mind, you could not seem to work up the nerve to contact him. No doubt, because of the stigma surrounding ghouls, and how your fellow classmates would react to seeing painting like that in their school. This was a private university, after all-it was no mystery that tolerance for anything out of thee ordinary would be harshly shunned here. Public universities, though not much more tolerant, seemed to have a slightly larger demographic of students who were more open minded.  
“Not yet… I’m sure he’s busy, and I don’t want to bother him too much.” You replied, as you set your graphic back into your pencil case. Messy sketches of your artist model littered the pages of your sketchbook-each marked to the side with a large, obviously frustrated X.  
“Well, there’s half your problem.” Yuki sighed as she reached for the small, pink bundle sitting next to her. She placed it on the table and unraveled the cloth, revealing two bento boxes and two sets of chopsticks.  
“But, put that aside for right now. You need to eat something-I know for damn sure your didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” She chastised.  
How did she know that?! You’re roommates must have told her, somehow… Those traitors! And you had lied so well to them!  
“I’m that obvious, huh?” 

“Not really. But they’re all rather chatty about you… Not always good things to say, though.” Yuki replied as she slid one of the bentos towards your side of the table. 

“Rude.”

“But not entirely untruthful.”  
You could only roll your eyes at her reply, despite how accurate it was. By comparison, you were the most grumpy of your dorm room.  
“Anyway, what did you throw together? It smells good, whatever it is.” You stated in an attempt to change the subject. Taking the chopsticks she offered you, the light pink top on the bento was then removed with your free hand. Through a slightly textured plastic cover, you could make out some sort of soup. Though not as warm as you would have preferred, the scent was mouth watering.  
Sitting in smaller spaces next to the soup bowl, a small mound of white rice with a covered tray of soy sauce. Beside that were three pink macaroons stacked on top of each other.  
“I made hotpot. It’s a new recipe Masao wanted me to try out; so it’s mostly vegetables and vegan beef.” She answered.  
Surprisingly, she sighed heavily as she opened her own bento: revealing almost the same setup as your own-having substituted the macaroons for a small portion of strawberries and melon.  
“He said it’s really good, and supposed to boost your energy. I thought it was really good, so I made a bunch of it for my dorm. But they all stuck their noses up at it.” She explained when she noticed the confused expression you wore.  
Heaving another sigh, she pulled her chopsticks apart, then pulled the lid off of the soup bowl.  
“Now they’re surviving off this weird diet of McDonald’s and microwave stroganoff.” 

For as long as you had known her, Yuki’s skills in the kitchen had always been something she questioned. Never mind how often you and your friends would forever praise anything she made, there would always be a sense of lingering doubt. Whether it be with the taste, or if she had put in the right ingredients to ensure the dish included the proper amount of vitamins.  
She had recently started using more animal friendly recipes, as her boyfriend was a staunch vegan.  
“They can afford to eat McDonald’s every day? My roommates and I will just scrounge through the fridge and eat anything that doesn’t look mildly questionable.”  
Though this was mostly an exaggeration, it was at least enough to put the smile back on your friend’s face. She swept a hand through her bangs, pushing them off to the side as she laughed.  
You picked up a thin slice of the meat-noting that it looked identical to regular beef. Not surprisingly, she had seasoned the dish perfectly-masking any indication that there was no true meat floating in the soup.  
“Mmm! Yuki, it’s delicious! What would I do without you?”

“Probably starve.” She laughed.  
Had you not had another mouthful of vegetables, you might have had a snarky response. Although, you supposed you had started this banter.  
“Still, I’m glad you like it. Means it’s not just going to be me and Masao trying to eat a whole crockpot full of it.” 

“It’s not potato chips and instant ramen. I will gladly help you eat it. My roommates probably will, too.” You replied. 

“Oh? You’re actually going to share my cooking with them?” She teased.

“Possibly, so long as they don’t rat me out for skipping breakfast again.”  
Yuki laughed heartily right alongside you. It was rare you both were able to meet during free time-she had her other friends, and you had yours. Still, the quiet times you would take to unwind for lunch were peaceful. Even if one of you was in a bad mood, the other was quick to bring a smile back to your faces.  
Yet, as you continued your idle chit chat and are your lunches, something seemed to be nagging at Yuki’s attention. Her dark brown eyes would occasionally shift to her right, one eyebrow raised slightly in suspicion.  
At first, you thought it might have been your imagination, given how quickly she would return to the conversation.  
However, after the third time of noticing it, you decided to follow her gaze.  
Stretched before the table you both sat at was a long, narrow stone pathway that led up to the various shops along the rotunda. Mostly little shops that sold single person lunches, interspaced with bookstores and a single gift shop.  
It was late in the afternoon, meaning there were not many students left out in the area. Even if it were the right time, the day was rather warm and sunny-meaning most of the students who were free were inside the school.  
Finally, your gaze settled on something unusual: a young woman wandering about the rotunda. To you, it almost seemed as though she might be either lost or looking for something in particular. With how she peeled inside the third bookstore, you were willing to wager on the latter.  
She was rather tall, by comparison to most students on campus. Her long, thick black hair pulled back into a neat ponytail that hung just at her hips. She dressed neatly-wearing jet black suit pants and a dark button down shirt. A crisp, freshly pressed lab coat adorned her shoulders.  
Did Yuki know this person? She looked a little old to be a student; perhaps an assistant in the medical department?  
As if sending your eyes on her, the woman turned her attention towards your table. Her emerald green eyes strikingly sharp, despite the friendly smile she gave you a moment later.  
Glancing over to Yuki, this only seemed to annoy her more. Slender shoulders tending as the woman crossed the pathway towards your table. She seemed to hold an air of unabashed confidence about her.  
“Good afternoon. I’m sorry to bother you, but would you by chance know who these belong to?” She asked as she held out a small, well worn card case. Made of dark brown leather, with a small embossed Celtic sun on the front. A full deck of cards held securely in place by the clasp at the top of the case.  
As you studied the card case, you could almost feel the animosity broiling off of Yuki. It was enough to make your own shoulders tense out of instinct. 

“N-No. I’m sorry, senpai, but they don’t look familiar to me.” You answered quickly. It was best to resolve this quickly. Making your friend anymore uncomfortable with this person’s presence was the last thing you wanted.  
The woman gunned in acknowledgment as she held the card case at her level. A small smile played at the edges of her rose painted lips ivory varnished nails fiddled with the metal clasp.  
“Is that so? That’s a shame. I’m sure someone’s missing them… But, one should not be so careless.” She stated crudely.  
You turned your attention back towards your lunch, hoping that the woman would leave, now. Though you had no idea who this person was, she was beginning to make you uncomfortable. You fidgeted under her emerald gaze, shifting the chopsticks in your hand ever so slightly.  
“Accidents happen. That does not mean their owner is careless all the time.” Yuki interjected, shooting the woman an icy glare. It was unusual to see her so hostile, when she generally went out of her way to get along with most people. 

“That’s true, but if my first impression of their owner is that they lost their cards, then I am left to assume they are careless all the time. Regardless if they prove otherwise.” The woman quipped back.  
Much to Yuki’s adamant dismay, the woman took the extra seat in between at the edge of the table. In hindsight, you thought, taking the table that only sat two would have been less stressful.  
Her agile fingers quickly popped the clasp on the cards, turning the case over to plop thee deck into her waiting palm.  
You felt your heart skip suddenly as she revealed the top card: The Ten of Cups. Who, you wondered, would wander around campus with a tarot deck in their bag? Sure, people were free to practice whatever religion they wanted in the country, so long as it was done in the privacy of their own homes. Most schools-whether grade school or college-frowned heavily upon thee use of spiritual games.  
In fact, the high school you had attended had implemented a school wide ban of tarot cards, Kokkuri-San, and Satoru-Kun from being played anywhere near school grounds. Your entire senior class had wondered if it was actually due to the alleged repercussions of playing such games, or if it was a bizarre measure to raise nationwide test scores for that school.  
“Since we’re here, though. Why don’t we give them a shot?” The woman proposed. 

“I don’t think-”

“We were just leaving.” Yuki chimed in.  
Emerald eyes shifted to your friend’s unfinished bento box, one neatly trimmed brow raised in blatant defiance. Her rose painted lips quirking slightly upwards in a smirk, as nimble fingers began to shuffle the cards.  
“Is that so? It’s not good for you to skip meals, Ms. Aikawa. You need your energy for that test coming up.”  
A visible tic started in your friend’s jaw at the teasing tone of voice. Whether the woman meant to or not was irrelevant, she was definitely getting under her skin. She was even beginning to get under yours, as well.  
“Forgive me for saying this, senpai, but you don’t seem like the sort who…” You trailed off, uncertain of how to put this. No matter how much she was annoying you both, it was still not grounds to be rude to an upperclassmen, or someone who might actually be part of the staff.  
“Who can accurately read the cards? Don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the first to point that out.” She finished with a small laugh. The cards shuffled quickly, turned upside down a few times.  
She spread the deck as best she could in her hands, holding them out to you. 

“I used to do this a lot in high school. Just take three cards, one for your past, present and future, and we’ll see what’s in store for you.”  
You stared at the cards, feeling a knot of worry settle deep in your stomach. You may not believe in spirituality, but you could not deny that there was an undeniable talent in how most fortune tellers twisted the meanings of the cards into something their viewer wanted to hear. Given how this person seemed to get on with Yuki, she would surely say you would be hit by an airplane in ten days, or something ludicrous like that.  
You wanted to refuse-close the lid on your box and actually leave with Yuki-yet something told you she would not be taking any refusal from you.  
With a shaky hand, you pulled three cards from the center of the deck. The woman set the others to the side as she took the three you had chosen. She arranged them side by side, merely a few inches apart from one another.  
“Right, then. You seem like a confident person, but did you want to switch any cards out?” She asked.  
You cautiously shook your head, for fear of your words failing you.  
The woman offered a quick smile as she turned over the first card. It painted a portrait of a young looking man standing over a cliff side-waves crashing against the rocks around him. His head of blonde hair billowed out behind him as he leisurely seemed to dance over the rocks. Carrying only a staff with a small cloth bundle tied to the top.

“The Fool, upright. Representing a free spirit and new beginnings. The ideal, unbridled spirit of an artist, I would say. You began joyful, and exuberant of your new challenges, regardless of thee dangers that might have come along with it…”

“Dangers?” You questioned. 

She pointed to the dog by the boy’s heel on the card. 

“Your conscience is always there, warning you that you’re dreams may not come to fruition. But you continue onwards, despite this. Not necessarily a bad thing, but you may want to listen to that little voice in the back of your head, every now and then.”  
With that, she turned over the second card. This time, it depicts a card that you have no trouble reading. Inverted cards… Those were bad, weren’t they?  
Showing a man, most likely a farmer, standing in an open field. He held a long, heavy wooden staff-surrounded by eight others in the field around him. Though, despite the injury on him, there was still a determined expression painted onto the face of the card.  
“The Nine of Wands, inverted. Representing exhaustion and a lingering doubt in one’s motives… Not entirely uncommon for someone your age. Like many artists, you might have hit a slump in your creative work… Or, perhaps a slump in something more personal. Perhaps… You doubt the motives of another.” Emerald eyes flickered up towards you.  
“Boys can be cruel like that.”  
Why your mind decided to pick that moment to send a scarlet blush across your cheeks would forever elude you. You clenched your chopsticks in your hand as you averted your gaze to the grass once again.  
“That’s not-”

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. Besides, we’re not done yet.” She interjected.  
You took a deep breath as you turned your attention back to the last card. What would this one be, you wondered. Something in the back of your mind nagged at your conscience. Telling you to get up and leave before she could finish her reading. Not only was she getting under your skin, she was beginning to creep you out.  
The last card was turned over, turning your blood icy cold in your veins. 

“The Tower, upright…” She glanced upwards at you for a brief moment as you studied the card. You may not believe much in spirituality, but there was something about this card that put a lump of worry deep in your heart. Could it be the two leaping from the towering structure in an attempt to escape the vicious strike of lightning? Or was it the jagged rocks they would surely land on, impaling them in a matter of moments? The sheer helplessness painted in their eyes as they chose the unknown of the mountain wilderness surrounding them?  
“Representing a sudden upheaval, broken pride or disaster… Perhaps, in an effort to escape your doubts, you leap out into the unknown: an upheaval of what you are comfortable with, even at the expense of your own pride? No… More like at the expense of that, and your faith in others…”  
She glanced up at you once again, as she swept the three cards up and placed them back into the deck. That irritating smirk plastered across her lips once again as she slid them all back into the case.  
“I’d listen to your conscience a little more, if I were you. The pride of an artist is as fragile as glass. I can see in your eyes that yours is threatening to crack, if you aren’t careful with it. It could be disastrous, if you don’t.”  
The woman stood up then, tucking the cards into the breast pocket of her coat. Using her free hand, she brushed aside a stray lock of her raven black hair.  
“That was fun. We should do that again, sometime.”  
Without giving you a chance to reply, she whirled around on her heel and quickly retreated back down the path she had come from. You could only stare in shock at what had just happened. Just what had she meant by your pride being fragile? Cracking? She had to be insane…  
“Let’s not.” Yuki muttered the second she thought the woman was out of earshot. 

“Alright, who the hell was that?” You demanded as you raked a hand through your hair, once again.  
Yuki sighed heavily as she set her chopsticks over her bowl of soup. Though she may not say it, itt was clear by the look on her face that she had no intention of finishing her lunch. Whether out of defiance for the woman’s teasing, or simply because her presence had ruined her appetite, you could not say.  
“That was Abene Yamazaki. She’s head of the science department, but genetics are her specialty.”  
Yuki shot one more glare at her retreating form, her cheeks puffing slightly in annoyance the longer she stared her down.  
“She’s also Masao’s ex. He dumped her about a year before we started dating.”  
That certainly explained the obvious distaste they had for one another. Yuki was the sort of person who did not take meeting ex girlfriends well: she never had. The fact that this one was Masao’s ex most likely only added to the irritation, given how invested she was in him.  
“Just not compatible anymore? Or had you met him already?” You asked carefully. 

“Neither, actually. He didn’t want to break up with her, but she was trying to get into Uta’s pants and sure as hell wasn’t shy about it.”  
You sighed heavily at this. Of course he would be involved in this, somehow… Given your luck, she was probably still chasing after him, too… 

_‘I really need to find a new model…’_  
If you wanted to keep your sanity in tact, it would be for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya’ll ever just... Type out a whole text message... and forget to hit send? That’s basically what happened.  
> Between that and convention prep, this took a little longer to rewrite again, than I wanted.


	10. The Artist’s Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After your less than pleasant meeting with the head of the science department, you spend the rest of the day in a fog. Upheaval... Doubts... What could her premonition mean? Did it mean anything at all? Or was she just trying to get under your skin?   
> Feeling the heaviness of exhaustion, you wander through campus, to the train station. The haziness in your mind taking you somewhere familiar.

How had you ended up here, exactly? Try as you might, the thought process for coming down this way after school eluded you. Late afternoon sun cascaded over the freshly shined glass of nearby buildings, seemingly further illuminating your blatant bad decision. The scent of freshly made Takoyaki and yakisoba lingered in the air throughout the area. You might have felt hungry had you not finished off the rest of the hot pot Yuki had made for you.   
You told yourself already: there was no way you were coming back to this ward. Nothing good could ever come from this part of town… Specifically not this studio. Yet, here you stood: hands gripped tightly around the fraying canvas strip of your shoulder bag. Your shoulder ached with the weight of your textbooks, stomach heavy with a rock of apprehension. Weary eyes traced the details of black painted sun on the studio wall a thousand times over-mapping out every faded line and chip in the design until you were certain you had memorized everything about it.   
The back of your neck felt warm with the heaviness of the sun’s rays. Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth-pulling at the dry, splitting skin nervously.   
Perhaps you should leave, you thought. There really was no need for you to come out this way, just to say you were going to find another model. All you really had to do was call him and let him know. Hell, you could have even sent him a text. Though it was less formal, and hardly the pinnacle of politeness. However, that did not sit well with you.   
Realistically, you thought as you stared at the scrawling letters that spelled out the studio’s name, you could leave him a note. 

… That was even worse than a text message.

 

Heaving a sigh, you brushed your hair over the back of your neck, shielding it from the harsh rays of sunlight that threatened to burn your flesh. This was pointless. You already had enough worry on your plate without this project, and that woman from the science department. So what if she had the hots for the man? It was not your business what either she or Uta did in their spare time. What right did that give her to intimidate you with her card tricks?   
“I just wanted a model… That’s it. I’m not trying to date him.” You muttered to yourself, brows knitting together as a tic of aggravation started in your jaw. 

“Is talking to one’s self something your kind does often? I don’t imagine it’s healthy for you.”   
The voice came from over your shoulder: soft as the morning breeze on a quiet autumn day. Speaking quietly, so as not to risk being heard by passers by, almost too quietly to be heard, even by you.   
A man’s voice.  
A familiar voice.   
You knew the person who so quietly spoke behind you. Face flushed scarlet with embarrassment as you whirled around to face him. Even with dark sunglasses obscuring his eyes, you would recognize that man’s face anywhere. If not for his facial piercings, then for his unusually pale skin and the scrawling ink over the length of his slender fingers. His brow raised slightly at you, no doubt from your sudden appearance at the studio.   
“U-Uta-San?!” You stumbled over his name, mind reeling from the sudden surprise of him being there.  
“You… I… Um… How much of that did you hear?” You asked timidly, eyes glancing down towards the sun faded asphalt. 

“Only all of it.” He answered bluntly.   
You were afraid of that… What were you supposed to say now? He would have to ask what you meant by that… Surely he would think you troublesome, after the fact. Although, you supposed that would be best, if you hoped to find a new model in time to thoroughly work through your assignment.   
“Come inside, Ms. F/N.” He said as he stepped around you with the studio’s keys in his left hand. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, keeping it propped out with his heel.   
Much as you did not want to impose, especially after those comments, you found yourself moving towards the stairwell that led down to the studio. Dimly lit by small lights on either side of the steel wall. You held the railing this time, pretending not to notice the ghost of fingers against your shoulder as he unhurriedly ushered you through the doorway.   
The faintest trace of incense hung in the air; he must not have stepped out for too long, you thought as you reached the bottom of the stairs. Stepping aside to give him room, Uta unlocked and opened the second door leading into the studio. As you followed him inside, you were immediately struck by the changes he had made to the place.   
While the studio was clean the last time you visited, you did not remember the tile grout being so light. The glass cases that held his masks, though similar to the ones on the other side of the room, were assuredly different. His mannequins were different, too. A plaster glazed wood, rather than the heavy ceramic they had once been. 

“Are… You remodeling?” You asked curiously, almost as an afterthought. 

“You could say that.” He replied without hesitation. At the counter, he set down the small bags he had been carrying. Spools of thread and boxes of chalk pencils, from what you could see. He removed his sunglasses, tucking them into the pocket of his light jacket, before peeling that garment from his shoulders as well.   
“I didn’t expect to see you here. I apologize if you tried to contact me, and I didn’t answer.” He added.   
You shook your head as you cautiously stepped further into the studio. Unsure of where to stand or sit, you simply chose to linger by one of the few familiar looking mannequins.   
“I hate to admit it… But I didn’t really think about coming here. I zoned out on the train and just… Kind of wandered here.” You explained.   
Uta’s dark eyes narrowed slightly at you. He did not wear the illusion of human eyes, this time. In a way, you found it comforting, despite the reason being superficial. You could give yourself the feeling of familiarity with him. In a way, you thought, it had been rather unnerving to see him with his unnatural illusion-even if it was to keep up appearances with Yuki.   
The ghoul stepped away from the counter, motioning for you to sit on the small chair in the center of the room. He took his measurements here, if you recalled correctly.   
As you sat down, he came to stand before you. Crouching down to be at your level-to look you in the eye, even as you looked away.   
“Is something troubling you? People in this ward-human or ghoul-sometimes “wander” here when they are troubled.” He said this calmly, his head tilted slightly to the side.   
Your hands clutched impossibly tighter at the strap of your bag. This was it: the opportune moment you needed. You could easily tell him that you would rather find another model. The last thing you wanted was for your senior to get the wrong idea about you being here, and start causing him trouble. Not for someone he hardly knew, and could never completely trust. That was not fair to him.   
“Uta-San… Are you… Well… Are you seeing someone?” That was definitely not the right question…   
“Hm? Seeing someone? Why do you ask?” He wondered curiously, as though someone had never asked him that question before. How could he not be accustomed to it, though? Sure, he was a little odd looking, but there was a strange beauty about him. You could not quite say what it was, yet it was so obvious to your eye, both as a young woman and as an artist.   
“It’s just… There’s this woman, she’s my senior at school… She's the head of the science department there and-”  
Uta immediately sighed, upon hearing those words. It was heavy, one of an unabashed weariness. His shoulders even slumped with the weight of your words.   
“I take it you’ve met Ms. Yamazaki, then.” He guessed. So he did know her…   
“I met her this afternoon, yes. But Yuki’s the one who told me about her… And, I guess you could say, her feelings.”   
The silence between you was thick enough to drown in. Heavy with unspoken thoughts-left to fester beneath anxious movements of fingers over canvas.  
“If-If you’re seeing her, and it’ll be a problem modeling for me, I understand. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” You finally admitted. 

“I can assure you her obsession is one sided. Though, she would be quick to say otherwise. She was nothing but trouble when she was dating Ms.Aikawa’s boyfriend a few years back.” He answered. Though his tone was even, there was an evident displeasure painted across his pale features. Subtle enough that, at first, you had not noticed it. Hidden in the crease of his brow, and how he scraped a canine tooth absently over his lip ring. If not for his eyes, the motion would look human…   
Still, that was some solace. At least you would not need to explain to yourself to her, should she come to know you were visiting him… Even if they were dating, you still would not find it fair for the need to explain yourself.   
“Is… She like you?” 

“A ghoul, you mean?”  
You nodded subtly. Though he was considerably nicer then the ghouls who chased you, and hunted humans, he was still one of them. Still, after speaking with him so much, you almost felt bad lumping him together with the other ghouls.   
“I’m not sure, actually. I always thought she smelled like us… Or, at the very least, she never smelled like a human. But she’s been through the CCG headquarters enough times to prove me wrong.” He answered thoughtfully, as though the question had never occurred to him until this point. If she was the crazy stalker you imagined her to be, it was no wonder he did not want to think about her. 

“You’re still worried.” He stated it more then asked. Though you did not want to appear so weak hearted in front of a man you hardly knew, it was quite difficult with so much uncertainty. At least if she was human, then security at the university could deal with her if she got too rowdy…   
“A little… Only because I go to the same school, I guess. But she’s in the science department, so I shouldn’t meet up with her again.” You said this more to convince yourself, rather than him. What were the chances of you meeting her, to begin with?   
“I can start meeting you at the train station here, if it’ll ease your worries.” He offered.   
Your face flushed a scarlet hue at this. The grip on your bag released in your embarrassment, clattering loudly to the tiles beside you.   
“Y-you don’t have to do that! That’s asking for too much!” 

“Is that so? If you go to the same school as someone you’re not comfortable with, then I imagine you’ll be coming here more often to work on your project.”  
You would admit, he had a point. On top of that, gossip had a funny habit of spreading like wildfire throughout the campus. All it would take would be inviting him over once for a rumor to start circulating. Considering your senior’s “obsession”, as he so graciously dubbed it, you sincerely doubted such a thing would be good for either of you.   
“Meeting you at the station would be the least I could do. After all, you were chased by ghouls in this ward.” He spoke this was the slightest hint of laughter in his voice. 

“Is this ward particularly dangerous?” You asked, in an attempt to change the subject. 

“It can be. Humans try to avoid coming here after dark. I won’t go into the details of the turf fights.” He replied, turned his gaze upwards at you once again. The faint traces of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.  
“If you want to stay the night here, you might even see some cannibalism. That’s always fun.” 

“I think I’ll pass…” You answered.   
Uta laughed lightly, his elbows rested on his knees as he laced his fingers together. The meshing of black ink on pale flesh was almost mesmerizing. You always liked tattoos, despite the stigma surrounding them. They were their own expression of art.   
“Don’t worry, I’m kidding. I don’t think Ms. Aikawa would think highly of me for keeping her friend so close to danger, even if you wanted to.” He replied as casually as he would discuss the weather. Was this sort of morbid joke something all ghouls did?   
Part of you wanted to ask, more out of morbid curiosity than anything else. However, a much different question left your lips. One you had not so much as even thought about until it was too late.   
“Actually, would it be alright if I stayed a little while?”   
The ghoul immediately raised an eyebrow.   
“T-to start on the portrait, I mean! If you’re not too busy, that is.” You hastily clarified. Where had that come from? You just asked if he was seeing anyone, and now wanted to hang around the studio? He was going to think you were just as weird as your senior!   
“I’m not exactly set up to keep human guests, but I think we can figure something out. You may stay as long as you wish.” He replied before you could think to contradict yourself and attempt to salvage yourself from the mortification that threatened to swallow you up.   
“Thank you, Uta-San. I won’t get in your way.” You assured him. 

 

He offered the young woman a soft, warm smile in response. She was rather strange, even for a human. Though he could still see the strain of timidness in her shoulders, she was still going to ask to stay? Moreover, she worried about being in his way? As though they were equals…   
A younger ghoul might have been foolish enough to believe in such a thing.   
Humans were fickle creatures. To an extent, ghouls could be as well. However, the latter species were more instinct driven, rather than morally.   
If he was lucky, she might just vanish from him after her project was finished. Worse case scenario, she would go to the CCG with information about him.   
“I’m sure you won’t.” He replied after a few moments of consideration.   
Pushing himself up to stand, he noticed her gaze following his movements. It was not chastising, or fearful as he would expect out of a human. Nor was it similar to how passers by would stare curiously at him while he ran errands for the studio. Her focus simply lingered.   
If he listened carefully, he could hear the rhythmic pulse of her heart. Blood rushing through her veins with each steady breath she took. She did not seem to fear him, as foolish as that decision was. However, he sincerely doubted she trusted him, either.   
Of course, he could not say he was so quick to trust her.  
“Do you have something in mind, already?” He asked, more as an effort to distract himself from the lingering doubt in the back of his mind.   
“Kind of…” She answered as she leaned over to grab her bag from the floor. She pulled a black and grey, hardcover sketchbook out of the pocket and flipped through several pages before handing it off to him. Graphite smeared in streaks across the pages, and their edges. She was a messy sketch artist, and pressed down on her pencils. However, there was no denying she was talented. Her sketches were proportioned as best they could be in the confines of the small boxes she made for them. Haphazardly drawn straight lines started at the edge of the page, showing where her lighting would be coming from.   
His eye immediately went to the most detailed sketch. Showing a single model sitting down, with their head on their knees, while a crowd of shadows lingered just behind it. It was subtle, but he could see where she had started trying to sketch his tattoos on the singular model.   
“This one’s interesting.” He remarked. 

“Hm? Really?” She wondered, as though she had not been considering that sketch at all. Given the more provocatively posed sketches surrounding it, he could not say he was at all surprised. It was a natural reaction, he supposed, when using a nude model for one’s piece.   
He nodded, much to her evident surprise.   
“What made you think of this?” He asked.   
She was silent for several moments, her pretty E/C eyes looking anywhere but at him directly. Did she not want to tell him?   
“Exhaustion… Doubt… Upheaval…” She sighed lightly before turning her attention back to him once again.   
“Hopelessness.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first reader insert fic in the past... Six years, I think. I’m a little rusty with these, but I hope you enjoyed this, anyway!


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